Random "Author Interview" Questions: 

Q: What is a significant way this book has changed since the first draft?

Em: The ending. I don't want to spoil the story, but the first draft didn't have this storyline going the way it ended up going. I think readers wouldn't have liked the first draft, but it was historically accurate for the way life often went in the 1920s. 

 Q: This novel touches on the idea of the paranormal. Do you believe in ghosts? Would you want to live in a haunted house? 

Em: I've always been intrigued with ghosts and I do believe that ghosts can exist, but I don't believe they are a horror movie. I do believe ghosts are energy of the once living and are people like they were when they were alive. There is enough in life to show us that we cannot explain everything that happens.  I do enjoy watching paranormal 'reality' shows, I love historical places, and I like seeing what life once was. I do believe some people are more 'in tune' with the energies of the world than others and can experience them in ways others cannot. But as to would I want to live in a haunted house? Ummm, well, I have given that some thought. Perhaps if it was residual hauntings, I'd be okay with it. But with an intelligent ghost that constantly moves things, slams doors, and makes things go bump in the night? Eh. Not really because I have kids who are all at 'that age' where they slam doors, leave stuff in random places, lose stuff all the time, and make enough messes by themselves that I totally don't need to be cleaning up after a person I cannot see as well as them. (Actually I think we already have two ghosts living with us named Idunno and Twasntme and boy do they cause havoc around here with messes!) But if it was a helpful and kind intelligent-haunting ghost who could clean house, fix dinner, do laundry, and edit for me, hey, I'm all for it. 

Q: If you could go on a ghost hunt, where would you go?

Em: I'm not sure I would go because ghost hunts happen at night and I'm exhausted by 8 PM. It'd never work out. I'd be annoyed and cranky. Heck, I'd be the scariest thing on the ghost hunt that night. *laughs* Honestly, I'll never understand why one has to ghost hunt at night. There are so many nocturnal things in nature that could cause these sounds. The freakiest thing, I think, would be for hauntings to occur during the day, when you could actually see it with your own two eyes and know the disembodied things are really happening. But if this was twenty or so years ago, and I had all the energy in the world to stay up all night like I did back then, I can only tell you were I'd NEVER go --- I'd never voluntarily go to an abandon asylum. Forget it. Uh uh. If you've watched the show "Supernatural," in the first season of it, Dean and Sam go to an abandoned asylum. I *always* skip that episode now because that is how I have always thought of places like that. It's horrible what they did in the name of 'medicine' to people. On the same note, old and abandoned hospitals are making their way to the second position on my list of "Places I'd Never Voluntarily Go" (kinda right there with jungles, Australia, and places with reptiles.)  My daughters are huge fans of the show "Destination Fear" and the YouTube channel "Project Fear." I never realized hospitals could be that haunted of places until that show. My oldest daughter wants me to take her to visit Sweet Springs Sanitarium in West Virginia because that's her favorite episodes of the show. Yeah...It's a Sanitarium. Which is basically an asylum. Uh Uh. 

Here is a free sample of the first chapter of 

The Mysterious Circumstances at Greenwood's Castle

It’s Back

A slight breeze moved through an open window as a furry orange cat padded across the carpet to the antique armchair, where he rubbed lovingly against the legs of his elderly owner. The cat reached his paws up, expecting to be petted, then lowered them as he flicked his tail in a disgusted manner when his owner ignored him as she turned the page of the scrapbook on her lap. An air of loneliness settled around her as she stopped turning the black pages to focus on a picture. Her dry fingers went to the hand-tinted photo of several young men, and she let her finger lovingly touch the face of one. The cat leapt up to the middle of the book, causing her to sigh deeply and pet the cat as she slowly closed her eyes.

“Two’ll get you ten he won’t show.” She could still hear his voice as she quietly peaked over the backseat of the Ford. The black leather made little sound as her sweaty little palms slipped to keep the blanket around her, the only thing that kept her hidden. She could see him crouch down to pick up a rock and flick it, making it skip across the still water. A gentle breeze teased at the suit coat he was wearing before it continued through the long green grass.

“He’ll show.” The large man leaning against a tree next to the touring car drew a cigar out of the inside pocket of his brown suit coat. His fingers briefly touched the pistol in his shoulder holster, anticipating what was to come. He then looked thoughtfully at the cigar. “The Old Man trusts you enough to take care of business.”

The young man turned from the pond. “You have doubts, Sonny?”

“No. No, of course not. Just commenting, that’s all,” Sonny gave a grin as he lit his cigar. “Just commenting,” he repeated as he took a puff on his cigar. Smoke filtered away from him. “Being so young and all, I’d think the Old Man would send you off to more schooling or something like he did your sisters,” he paused. “Instead, he’s letting you take care of business. Why is that you think?”

The young man put his shoulders back as he stood up. “I can handle the family business,” he told him with a cool Irish accent. He reached into his black vest pocket and drew out his pocket watch, looked at it, then put it back. His hand adjusted the pistol in his shoulder holster, making sure it was readily available at any sign of trouble. He next straightened his black suit coat then reached up to smooth his dark hair. He cast a glance at the silent boathouse that they had been in minutes before. In the car, she leaned her head against the seat trying to keep in the shadows of the cab, eagerly watching.

“I see,” Sonny tipped some ashes on the ground then looked nonchalantly over at him. “And handling it includes being sweet on the Zeidermann dame still.”

“I care not to discuss Miss Zeidermann with you,” his voice was still cool and defensive.

Sonny grinned. “Lighten up, Kid. She’s only a skirt. We’ve never seen that trouble an O’Leary before. Especially you, Myles.”

Myles only glanced at him and moved away from the car, uneasily pacing the ground.

Sonny watched him pace for a moment before he stuck his cigar in his mouth then took off his fedora and studied the brim. “Rumor has it you’ve been trading information about your father’s business to Zeidermann.”

“Rumors have been wrong before,” Myles stopped pacing and stood up straight, taking his watch out again. “Damn it, Sonny. Where’s Boling?”

“He’ll be here,” Sonny had put his hat back on and was blowing smoke rings. “What’s the hurry?” His eyes suspiciously watched Myles for a second before he reached into his jacket. “Relax. Have a cigar.”

“Nah,” Myles shook his head and turned to walk towards the car. She quickly ducked down in the backseat and covered her head with a blanket. “How can you stand to smoke those things?” His voice was closer and her heart beat faster as she was afraid she’d get found out.

“It’s an acquired taste that comes with age,” Sonny replied as he flicked the ashes on the ground and watched Myles turn at the sound of a car. “You’re the only kid I know who doesn’t smoke.” A black Hudson Special crawled into sight, the white walled tires slowly making their way through the mud. The engine purred and ticked as it rolled to a stop, the chrome glowing in the sun.

“It’s about time,” Myles grumbled, as he turned to Sonny and gave him the nod of his head. Sonny frowned, straightened up from the tree, and followed Myles to where three men climbed out of the Hudson. “What kept you Boling?” Myles asked the man in a gray suit as he approached them. “The deal was for 2:15.”

“So, the Old Man actually sent the kid,” Boling sneered. From the Ford, she lifted her head to peer over the seat. “I thought he’d at least have the smarts to send Dannan or Mikey along, too. I’m not used to dealing with the kid. But you’ll learn. I’ll show when I’m good and ready.”

“Enough talk, just cut to the chase,” Myles became business like as he drew the envelope from his vest pocket. “Here’s the contract. The job’s got to be completed by Friday. Then you’ll receive payment as usual.”

Boling looked humored as he accepted the envelope that Myles handed him. He opened it then smiled at seeing the green color of money. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Kid,” he extended his hand forward for a shake. Myles hesitated, looking at him skeptically, then accepted as Boling gave him a wink. As if on cue, Sonny drew his pistol from its holster and approached Myles, drawing the hammer back.

At the sound Myles turned, his hand immediately releasing Boling’s and going for his own gun. Sonny held the pistol to Myles’s head. “Not so fast there, Kid,” Sonny smirked, his cigar sticking out the side of his mouth. “Get your hand away from that roscoe.”

Myles stared at him. “You gone buggy? Get that damn thing away from my head!”

Sonny didn’t answer as Boling smugly looked at his watch. “Right on schedule,” he remarked sticking the watch back in his pocket. “See Kid, we weren’t late.” Triumph was in his eyes as he motioned with his hand. “Get his piece,” he ordered.

She watched in terror from her hiding spot, afraid to breathe as one of the men stepped forward and took Myles’s gun from its holster.

Myles’s eyes were focused angrily on Boling. “You think you’re going to get away with this?”

“Oh yeah,” Boling’s dark eyes smiled as he took the gun that was retrieved from Myles. 

“This time, it’s an order. We’ve got it from here, Sonny. Get going and keep your trap shut.”

Sonny removed his gun from Myles’s head and replaced it in its holster as he slowly backed away. Myles gave Sonny a look of betrayal as his dark Irish eyes were glowing with intense anger. Sonny only shrugged as Boling motioned to Myles.

“Down on your knees, Kid,” Boling was calm, collected, and in control. “You know the drill.”

Myles’s eyes went back to Boling and raised his chin stubbornly, his pride not allowing him to follow orders. Sonny now stood by the car, quietly finishing his cigar while watching the action.

“Down on your knees, God damn it!” Boling snapped angrily. “I ain’t got all day!” He put his hand on Myles’s shoulder and forced him down.

“My father will pay you well if...” Myles grudgingly told Boling through clenched teeth.

“Yeah, he is. He’s paying dearly for this,” Boling said as he placed himself to the right of Myles then slowly opened the cylinder of Myles’s gun and checked for bullets. With each click of the cylinder, Boling continued to talk smoothly. “You should have left things as they were. You know your father can’t afford to have his own kid selling himself to Zeidermann at this point in the racket,” Boling said as he locked the cylinder back into place then stuck the gun to the back of Myles’s neck. “You should have gotten out when you had the chance, Kid.”

“I’m not selling myself to Zeidermann and my father knows that.” Myles closed his eyes, his heart racing as he felt the coolness of the barrel against the nape of his neck. “I can take care of my own business. I don’t need someone telling me what to do.” His breathing quickened as Boling pulled the hammer back with a torturous click. He began to understand that the decisions made here would be final but his pride wouldn’t allow him to beg for his life. “My father will pay if its money you want...”

From the car, she could not take her eyes off the scene. She felt numb. She felt sick. She felt immense fear. How could this be happening? This couldn’t be real!

Sonny was still focused on them, staring at them as if he wasn’t sure of what was going on. 

“What are you doing?” Sonny’s voice was suddenly serious. “Boling that’s not -!”

“Shut your trap!” Boling barked at Sonny as he turned his attention back to Myles, moving from behind so he could face Myles and see the fear in the young man’s eyes. “Kid, there’s no amount of money that can equate the satisfaction I’m going to feel for this.” He pulled the trigger.

Her eyes snapped open at the memory, bringing her fully in the present. The large cat began to purr as she rubbed its ears. “Well Mr. Whiskers,” she spoke to the cat. “It’s back again, and I don’t know what to do with it.”

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