If you are interested in blogging or want to promote your book, please contact E. B. Davis at writerswhokill@gmail.com.


Our reason for creating WWK originated as an outlet for our love of reading and writing mystery fiction. We hope you love it, too, and will enjoy our holiday gifts to our readers with original short stories to celebrate the season. Starting on 11/16 stories by Warren Bull, Margaret S. Hamilton, Paula Gail Benson, Linda Rodriguez, KM Rockwood, Gloria Alden, and E. B. Davis will appear every Thursday into the New Year.


Our November Author Interviews: 11/8--Ellen Byron, and 11/15--Sujata Massey. Please join us in welcoming these authors to WWK.


November Saturday Bloggers: 11/4 Margaret S. Hamilton and 11/11 Cheryl Hollon.


Congratulations to our writers for the following publications:

Shari Randall's "Pets" will be included in Chesapeake Crimes: Fur, Feathers, and Felonies anthology, which will be published in 2018. In the same anthology "Rasputin," KM Rockwood's short story, will also be published. Her short story "Goldie" will be published in the Busted anthology, which will be released by Level Best Books on April 25th.


In addition, our prolific KM will have the following shorts published as well: "Making Tracks" in Passport to Murder, Bouchercon anthology, October 2017 and "Turkey Underfoot," just published, will appear in the anthology The Killer Wore Cranberry: a Fifth Course of Chaos.


James M. Jackson's 4th book in the Seamus McCree series, Doubtful Relations, is now available. His novella "Low Tide at Tybee" appears February 7 as part of Lowcountry Crimes: Four Novellas, which is available for order.

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Tuesday, March 29, 2016

Coming Upon--Situations by E. B. Davis

(Republished from original posted 3/5/11)

Happy hour had arrived. Friends and I decided to walk to our neighborhood sound beach, a place where we enjoy the close of the day while pondering current events, family matters, and other topics of interest. We are accustomed to taking drinks and our chairs with us. However, that day, because the wind was strong, we decided to postpone happy hour until after our walk, leaving our libations and comforts at home. I make note of this so that you know strong drink, critical speculation, malicious gossip nor soft seating influenced us.

The winter storms had driven pillows of now drying sea grass on the beach, in some places several feet high. Its spongy thickness softened our footfalls as we walked slowly to the shoreline. At our backs, the wind gusted from due east. We pondered if the wind’s direction had driven the seagulls to find shelter on the sound rather than their usual ocean beach habitat. Their presence would have interfered in our enjoyment of happy hour had we not decided to postpone. Sea birds have a nasty habit of opening their canned food by grasping tasty bivalve scallops in their beaks, flying to great heights, and then dropping them like bombs on the beach. Gravity makes can opening efficient, but also creates hazards for unsuspecting humans.

I stepped judiciously through the broken scallop shells enjoying the sound view, but glanced inland to the marsh and was startled to see a flat-bottomed boat buried under the sea grass mounds on the beach. As we had walked down the declining beach, its presence had been completely obscured. From the shoreline, we could see that the boat, a type normally used in the sound’s shallow waters, was approximately eighteen feet long and its Japanese outboard motor was still attached. A small boat, its total depth was around four feet. Startled by its presence and our curiosity whetted, we all approached. Inside, the bench seats were still intact. Although sea grass filled the interior, we saw the steering wheel sticking up and a flotation devise’s blue color visible in the sea grass layers.

We stared at the boat pondering its presence. I tried to imagine, as I’m sure my friends did as well, the circumstances of how it had beached, filled with sea grass and had become buried on the beach. Who would leave a boat, motor attached, to the elements when even a small boat such as this cost about ten thousand dollars? And then, a metal object lying on the port railing glimmered in the last rays of the day’s sun. In mass, we moved closer and saw—handcuffs, only one half remaining with two links of chain intact.

Adjourning to the house for libations, we speculated on the half pair of handcuffs, what their presence might mean, and if the boat and the handcuffs were connected in story. We did not go back with shovels to find a body on the floor of the boat covered with sea grass. Our fiction will suffice and if there is a body, someone else will find it. We will scan the headlines to see if reality matches our imaginations, knowing that even if our reticence left a mystery, we left the scene untouched.

7 comments:

Warren Bull said...

Clearly this was a sign to you that a mystery awaits your telling.

E. B. Davis said...

Yes! And as it turned out, I wrote a short story based on this experience that was published in Mysterical-E magazine titled, "Maybe Baby." Here's the link: http://mystericale.com/pre-2015/index.php?issue=131&body=file&file=maybebaby.html
It was a fun Valentine's Day piece.

KM Rockwood said...

This find does trigger the imagination! Kidnappings, human trafficking, drug smuggling violence, prisoner escapes, bank robberies, kinky sex games--who knows what went into creating the scenario. It appears that, at some point, the plans went awry.

Gloria Alden said...

This just had to be used in a story or book. I think I would have let my curiosity go further and see if there was a body under the debris in the boat. This was sort of like my finding a hanging body in my woods that was a suicide. Of course, when I wrote the story, he was a murder victim. Oh, the minds of mystery writers. We have a way of twisting things into a work of fiction, don't we.

Margaret Turkevich said...

and you never found out what really happened? Great scenario, particularly with the handcuffs. That item alone sets the story apart.

Shari Randall said...

Boy, was I hooked! I am so glad you shared the link to your story. But I have to say, this is a killer opening for a novel *hint*

E. B. Davis said...

We never found out what happened, but we did find out the boat was owned by some crazy guy who lived in the neighborhood. The thing is, he rented out rooms in his home to dubious people who spent time in jail--so, my story might not be far from reality and there is a prison straight across the Sound on the mainland--a minimum security prison. I asked Lee Lofland if there were any reasons of prisoners might be out and about. He said--all the time--for dentist or doctor appointments, court attendance, etc. So it wouldn't be all that hard to figure one of them took flight after going to a dentist appointment. A friend provided the boat, etc...