Tag Archives: Mystery

Canvas Blues – LXXIII: Yesteryears

28 Wednesday Jul 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXXIII: Yesteryears

Funny thing about floating about in the middle, no one ever thinks of you like that. It’s either one side or the other. The if-you’re-not-with-me-you’re-against-me mentality. Active imaginations thinking gossip, gossip, gossip, about the person not around. Over-sensitivity, youthfulness, anxieties all working to destroy what rationalism some might have possessed otherwise.

Brendon tried, he truly did, desperate to continue clinging to the two friends he’d raced down Grant’s Lorry Road with in the summer, the two friends he’d met in an old car cemetery time after time to play hide and seek among the rusted fenders and rotted rubber and butterfly gatherings.

Sure Casey got the bulk of his time, the most of his focus, his teenaged mind lost to hormones and new sensations. Robbie got his own time though, the two of them sitting at Robbie’s expansive dining room table, sketches and outlines spread across two thirds of the space. They worked on two comics concurrently.

The first one was to be a serialized fantasy about a spiderling who controlled the minds of a typical dungeon-crawling party. Each comic somewhat separate with occasional short arcs deep within specific dungeons or inside particular taverns, but generally individual in nature ala Sunday morning funnies.

The second one took far more of Brendon’s artistic chops, for the humorous alterations in character and setting just would not do, the space stations and exoplanets and marauders needing to have a realistic flare within their design. Robbie set the stage, his countless notes on plot arcs and character traits exposing a sweet naivety in their creation, but filled with so much passion, so much love, that the flaws disappeared.

They’d completed almost fifty individual panes of the fantasy comic—It’s All Under Control—and a measly, but gorgeous, fourteen panes of the grimdark sci-fi—Stars Avast—when Casey found out. Continue reading →

Canvas Blues – LXXII: Yesteryears

21 Wednesday Jul 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXXII: Yesteryears

Junior year boasted one of those moments that would forever be commemorated in a 5k walk/run title, but it started innocently enough with a local news reporter who fancied himself a hot shot journalist. The man—Tony Kepuchar—did a spotlight piece on cop favoritism. Election year and all that, with the sheriff being incumbent and his friends and family like an ant network spread about the county. Kepuchar did his research, no one could fault him for that, and yet, one little line and the word “allegation” was enough to set off a chain of events that would forever haunt Brendon’s neighborhood.

“Taylor Lee Barry, grandson to County Sheriff Joseph Barry, is one such example, having been implicated in illegal street races, but never charged, with an allegation against him of heroin dealing that has, interestingly, not been investigated.”

Casey’s father threw that paper across the living room, smacking a row of DVDs to the ground in a haphazard cascade of porn and 90s flicks. Then he went on a rampage, the alcohol singing in his veins. He found Casey in the garage, fiddling with replacing the Mustang’s water pump, and proceeded to beat him with the first thing that came to hand—the rubber serpentine belt Casey had removed and not yet returned.

“No good druggie! I knew that man was bad news!”

Though the hits remained weak, they came fast and no amount of confused questions, and then later, insistences that Casey had never participated, would assuage his father’s self-righteous fury.

Casey showed up on Brendon’s doorstep on foot, bruises starting to show across his neck and shoulders, but he paid them no heed, instead ranting and raging as loud and crass as his father had the hour earlier before finally calling his mother and—partially in demand and partially begging—asked to move in with her and Becks.

“It’s not like we’re doing anything together. The Mustang’s been done and in my name, not his and I can drive the extra fifteen minutes to school in the morning, no biggie.”

Brendon listened with a palm against Casey’s back and cheek to Casey’s shoulder, gently though, afraid of hurting him further.

“I don’t care if it’s a closet, Mom. Could be a fucking couch for all I care.” Then a muttered, “Sorry.” Probably on account of the cussing. Continue reading →

Canvas Blues – LXXI: Present

14 Wednesday Jul 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXXI: Present

Tell me about this Casey. As if Casey could be expressed in simple words.

Brendon poured them both another round of the old whiskey. Too much probably, but Evelyn Yert remained on the mind. Again, too much so. He swallowed, gaze darting about the room, catching on his sketches, wondered whether he should tear them all down, start fresh, blank walls, clean slate.

“Brendon?” Orion’s voice so soft, a gentle, coaxing sound from a man who could be so hard and unyielding.

“You have a high school love? Not a crush or a fling, but an actual love affair.”

Orion studied Brendon closely. “The kind where you find yourself crying in the shower and pretend it’s just the water?”

Brendon opened his hands in an approximation of a shrug. For him it hadn’t been the shower; it’d been his easel over at Llama Park, just out of sight of the lakeside hiking trail, where a little gurgling brook that fed into the lake happily ignored the angry paint smears and harsh words.

“It’s like you fall in love with a person one day and wake up the next to discover that that person never actually existed at all.”

Orion nodded slowly. “Heartbreak hits even the coldest of us.”

“Right. I’m not saying I’m somehow different.” Brendon stood abruptly, paced the small living room, knowing that Orion stared but unable to stop himself from moving, needing the action, the fingers not holding his glass twitching with the desire to hold a paintbrush. “Things just look different when you’re younger.”

“Emotions are heightened,” began Orion.

“No, not that. Well, yes, you’re right, but that’s not what I’m referring to.” It’s all about perspective. “You see people one way when seeing things through a child’s eyes.”

“And then you grow up to realize your parents’ flaws or grow away from friends.”

“He was…”

Orion remained quiet, unmoving in the armchair that backed against the far wall. Along the wall beyond his head there were sketches of crabs, of cattails, of many, many lined boat drawings because Brendon had been practicing ripples, ripples and more ripples. Continue reading →

Shatter by Glass Republished :)

23 Wednesday Jun 2021

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I’m pleased to announce that I have finally gotten my act together and republished the first in my original Loose Id novels. Murder in Color will follow in 2022.

The DaSunder Chronicles are murder mysteries featuring different characters in each book. Each can be read as a standalone in terms of the murder mystery, though they are written in chronological order.

This was my very first novel published, so it’s got a special place in my heart for kicking me on the path I’m on.

SHATTER BY GLASS

DaSunder Chronicles #1

Where dragons fly on wings of sand…

When Detective Brettoni Rhodes is called to a murder scene outside the desert city of DaSunder, he doesn’t expect the victim to be one of two sand conjurers who had fled years ago after an accident they’d caused. His past doesn’t stop there, for Luca Baino, the second man who had fled DaSunder and Brett’s old flame, suddenly appears looking to rekindle their relationship.

But all evidence in this investigation steadily points to another conjurer, one who can turn sand into glass. And the suspect pool with that capability is light, with Luca at the very top.

Every step of the way, Brett finds more and more reason to suspect Luca of murdering his own friend, his rekindled interest in Brett mere manipulation. With conjured creatures attacking DaSunder and the governor demanding a quick, brutal end to the bloodshed and chaos, there is little time to discover the truth. For the harsh laws of DaSunder hang low and ominous over the investigation, demanding retribution, and no one, including Brett, wants to be caught in that trap.

As the body count rises and the evidence mounts, Brett isn’t sure he can save Luca from the executioner’s axe. Or whether he should even try.

Thank you to everyone who has read any of my stories, whether my free short stories here on my blog or my longer novels. I appreciate every single read. Every single person.

The beautiful things people say about my writing, how much they enjoy my fantasy worlds, how much they like my characters, they keep me going and keep me writing.

This is my passion project, which I’m sure shows, and I’m so thankful for the kindness I’ve been shown on everything I write.

<3 Emmi

Canvas Blues – LXX: Yesteryears

26 Wednesday May 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXX: Yesteryears

That summer between sophomore and junior year, Donna Pierceman called three times seeking something new for her gallery for that September. The theme—Family History—gave Brendon no inspiration despite repeated suggestions first from his mom, then from Aunt Laurel. They certainly thought this new theme was important.

“Family—our family—is different from others. You should be proud of it, to have something representing us on display.”

That repeatedly came from his mom all summer long because she’d gotten a bird in her ear and now believed Brendon somehow suffered from teenage embarrassment, which he wasn’t, at least not completely, that was lending him to cringe at the gallery theme. But the truth would have shocked and frustrated his mom worse because Casey-fever had taken hold and the only painting he sketched out time and time again was a birthday present for Casey’s seventeenth.

This one had to be the best of Brendon’s paintings. Something to make Casey sigh and smile dreamily. Something to make their next kiss elevated to heaven, to entwine them more powerfully than any other two people in the world, living or dead. Continue reading →

Canvas Blues – LXIX: Yesteryears

19 Wednesday May 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXIX: Yesteryears

The ski trip—which logically should have been called a snowboarding trip—flew past in a flurry of snowdrifts and Valentine decorations. Brendon didn’t even think Casey noticed Robbie missing that Friday in February, too busy finding temporarily abandoned construction zones to park at during dark hours. For the first time in his life looking to stand still rather than go roaring off down the road—at least in a literal sense, because figuratively, Casey was always ready to go.

They spent those first few months in a mess of stained clothing and sweaty skin. The scent of that backseat turning from a mix of cheap strawberry air freshener, motor oil and cigarettes, to musk and pheromones and french onion dip and tacos because they’d get hungry between and find themselves at the grocery store at eleven or a drive-through for fourth meal.

The pictures under Brendon’s mattress grew lonely. The furrows on Casey’s brow smoothed out.

They did everything and then did everything again in different positions. They drank too much on race sidelines and dodged heavy drugs by virtue of being too caught up in one another to care about the baggies being passed hand-to-hand. Continue reading →

Canvas Blues – LXVIII: Present

12 Wednesday May 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXVIII: Present

She’d been twenty-six. In the ground now these last eight years at St. Thomas next to her grandmother. Her obituary claimed she’d drown in her family’s home. They didn’t say bathroom or kitchen or Jacuzzi. They didn’t say saltwater. But Brendon remembered the painting he’d completed for the Yert family…eight years ago. Same year Robbie had gotten back from his European backpacking trip.

Marylanders and their crabs.

“It’d been another bayscape. I do a lot of them. Locals like it. Sort of a claim, part of what culture we have.” He swallowed and took another gulp of the whiskey Orion had brought when he’d arrived on Brendon’s doorstep. “Been on a few postcards,” he added. “Don’t know if they sell.”

Orion poured another few fingers and sat back in the armchair. The room felt tiny and tight, all the walls too full of drawings and sketches and work. Yet he didn’t seem to mind. He sat, larger than God and as ambiguous in his blessings. The small world of Brendon Kotes his to play in.

That might have been an unfair observation. A good painting though.

“That particular commission came from Katherine Yert. She took me into her guest bathroom—huge room, bigger than my apartment—and showed me the decor, wanted me to match the shades exactly. Quite particular so I took photos and copious notes even though it made the painting a tad more teal than would be right. Though, I guess that’s a matter of perspective.”

“What is it that makes you think Evelyn Yert drown because of your painting?”

Brendon hesitated. “She’s… She was…” Continue reading →

Canvas Blues – LXVII: Yesteryears

05 Wednesday May 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXVII: Yesteryears

Brendon had no real words for that first kiss. The slush coming down, spattering across Casey’s Mustang. The vibrations of the wipers as they struggled to clear the water. The chill that seeped in through the floorboards. The contrasting warmth blowing on his arm. Those were the things that would forever drag him back.

He knew he’d been second-choice, second best. And yet, in that moment, he thought he’d won. Casey’s mouth warmer than the heat purring from the engine, his hands gentler than the rain, and when he sighed and settled his forehead on Brendon’s shoulder Brendon simply held him there.

A moment etched in time. Casey’s stress sliding away. The anger fizzling, struggling to gain purchase, but like the slush coursing down the windows, Brendon stroked down Casey’s back until there was nothing but warmth where there’d been fire, nothing but contentment where there’d been bitterness.

Their lips, soft, open, became a conduit. Years of desire, years of confusion, all coming to a head as tongues darted carefully, reaching for the empty feeling in order to fill it up, twist it about, make it tumble away. Brendon shivered, numb and hot and kissing in a state of shocked happiness. Finally having a taste of what-could-be, what-might-be. That kiss drew, like lines in his sketchbook, shading and coloring until the entire world blended together— Continue reading →

Canvas Blues – LXVI: Yesteryears

28 Wednesday Apr 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXVI: Yesteryears

They drove down Grant’s Lorry Road, fast enough they took that bump at speeds that sent their stomach’s dropping. Casey huffed and ground the pedal down further when they turned down Old Sycamore Road, the canopy above their heads barren, clawing, like dying dryads, and the road slick and overrun with icy water in the worst of places.

Chilly wind whipped in through the millimeter gaps where the rubber pulled off the windows and Casey’s iPod sang glory rock through crackly speakers.

“She’s nothing but a cow. Been handed through every guy on the varsity lacrosse team and some of the JV as well. Can’t believe he’d let a slut like that catch his eye. Idiot never could keep his liquor.”

“You’re not really mad at Evelyn,” murmured Brendon, but he stopped short of defending her. He should have, he realized later, but fear kept his filters up and his throat closed down.

“She’s not worthy of me being mad at her,” Casey agreed. “Fucking Robbie though.”

“Why’s it matter?”

“Because he looks down his nose at us, like we’re nothing but dirt.”

“Have you talked to him?” Continue reading →

Canvas Blues – LXV: Present

21 Wednesday Apr 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXV: Present

Brendon should have spent the rest of the day working. He had three active commissions that called to him, a few emails that begged responses, and a gallery showing to plan for the end of next month, but he found himself, just as Orion probably knew he would, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a giant binder and a mass of contracts and papers, wishing he had already hired someone to sort the logistics of his job into legible order.

How exactly did one go about calling up old clients and customers to ask, “Hello, has the painting not swallowed or spit out anyone who’s viewed it? No? Thank you. Please don’t call the psych ward. Have a good one.”

His internet search skills left much to be desired as he had a tendency to buy books he could pore over for information rather than reach for a computer or phone or anything in between. Maybe if he’d been more of a digital artist…

Evening had turned the studio into a red cloud by the time Brendon realized a generally easy solution. Why, call and let all previous customers know about the new gallery showing. Now, to figure out how to call each and every one of these customers without letting the phone grow horns and eat what social skills he possessed…

No, that wasn’t a good solution either.

Brendon found himself sitting at his paint-speckled work table late into the evening typing in names and addresses and feeling like a stalker. He found nothing and more nothing. Lists of honor rolls dotted with first and last names unconnected. Continue reading →