When I was involved in photography, I learned that the photographer's position could change an entire picture.

Move a few steps to one side, and an unwanted object disappears from the frame. Lower the camera, and something ordinary becomes imposing. Come closer, and the surroundings vanish. Step back, and the same subject becomes only one small part of a much larger world.

None of those photographs is necessarily false. But none contains the whole truth either.

That is the difference between perspective and reality. Reality is everything that exists. Perspective is the portion we can see from where we are standing.

Perspective offers a writer an almost endless supply of plots.

A stranger arrives in town. One person sees a threat; another sees salvation.

A man inherits his father’s legacy. From the outside, it might look like wealth, power, and opportunity. From his perspective, it could be a trap.

Change the perspective, and the entire story changes with it.

***

I recently republished Unwanted Legacy as a Huntley Gothic.

The story takes place in Rhode Island in 1935, and it contains both a crime story and a very real ghost. That raises a reasonable question: Why call it Gothic instead of historical paranormal fiction?

Historical paranormal describes two of the book’s elements. Gothic describes its heart.

Michael Dashiell returns to America expecting to finally have a home and the chance to get to know his father. Within twenty-four hours, his father is dead—and Michael discovers that Clinton Dashiell was not the man he believed him to be.

To the police and the underworld, Clinton was “The Professor,” a powerful gangster. Michael inherits his name, his enemies, and the consequences of choices he never made.

Even death does not put an end to his father’s influence.

That is where the Gothic enters the story. The past refuses to remain buried. A family legacy becomes a source of dread. The dead continue to shape the lives of the living, and the question is not merely whether the ghost is real, but what it wants.

Unwanted Legacy is historical. It is paranormal. It is also a crime thriller. But Gothic is the word that describes the shadow hanging over all of it.

He never wanted a legacy. But the dead don’t always ask.

***

My current murder mystery, Welcome to Dunbrae: Book 1 of the Sea Smoke Series, also plays with perspective.

It takes place in the small coastal village of Dunbrae, Nova Scotia. The village, the local characters, and the absence of graphic violence give the story some cozy elements. But I would not call it a cozy mystery.

The consequences weigh heavily, and the investigation firmly grounds itself in the harsh realities of murder, suspicion, and a man whom they hold for a crime he might not have committed.

Rory MacAbe appears guilty from one perspective. He had reason to be angry with the victim, and the evidence seems to point toward him. Richard Gauthier, our detective from Montreal, who was quite reluctant to take this case, however, does not find what seems obvious satisfactory. He wants to know what actually happened.

Janet Fraser may be the one person capable of getting Rory to stop and set aside his stubbornness long enough to tell them why he was arguing with the victim the day before his murder.

In this excerpt, Richard, our detective hero, has just spent a frustrating interview trying—and failing—to persuade Rory to explain why he argued with the murder victim. When Richard returns to the front office, he finds Janet waiting. The local magistrate and minister explain that the people of Dunbrae don’t trust Richard yet, but they do trust Janet. They believe she may be exactly the help he needs.

Richard reluctantly decides to put that theory to the test.

I looked directly at Janet. “Go back there and get Rory to tell you what happened and why he and Gideon argued earlier on the day Gideon was killed.”

Janet stood without hesitation. She removed her gloves first, laying them neatly on the desk, then slipped off her coat and draped it over the back of the chair. Without saying another word, she walked toward the rear of the jail.

Robert unlocked the door for her, and she disappeared inside, shutting it quietly behind her.

A few minutes later, Janet came out of the rear jail section and stepped back into the office.

I searched her expression for some indication of what had happened, but her face revealed absolutely nothing. To my surprise, she walked directly over to me and stopped. She looked up at me quietly.

“Did you get him to tell you what the argument was about?” I asked.

“He’s ready to speak to you about it.”

I honestly found myself flabbergasted. I had not truly believed she would manage it.

What surprised me even more was that she did not gloat afterward. There was no “I told you so,” no smug smile, and no reminder that she had succeeded where I had failed.

She behaved no differently than if I had asked whether she had remembered to feed the cat.

“Thank you,” I said.

This is the first novel I’ve written in first person, and I’m really enjoying it. Richard’s thoughts allow me to show not only what is happening but also how thoroughly Janet manages to disrupt the quiet, orderly life he intended to have. There will be three books in the series.

***

Another story coming soon is a historical romance, and it begins with a young woman named Eve Walsh and a marriage conducted by proxy. It takes place in the 1880s in and outside of Boston, Massachusetts

The story feels a little like The Scarlet Pimpernel meets The Phantom of the Opera. Eve’s husband comes to her only at night and remains hidden in darkness. By day, she finds herself drawn to a kind gentleman she had met earlier in the book. Somewhere beyond them both, a vigilante is waging war against Boston’s wealthy men who have learned all too well how to abuse their power.

Eve is unaware that her life is linked to all three men (or is it just one?)

I suppose it depends on perspective.

***

I hope you enjoyed this newsletter.

You may notice something unusual in today’s newsletter: a sponsored recommendation arranged through Kit.

I rarely include advertising. I receive more than my fair share of offers, but I’m particular about what I share because I don’t want to clutter this newsletter with ads. This newsletter is for you, so I carefully consider anything that comes my way. This is a one-time placement for 1440, a news service designed to provide fact-focused coverage without much of the noise that often surrounds the news. It looked like something some of you might appreciate, so I agreed to share it.

As always, you are free to explore it—or simply continue on your way.

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