If you haven’t yet met the characters in my first mystery novel, False Impressions, I’d like to introduce you to the personalities who worked their way into my imagination and decided to stay for a while. The following excerpts from the book are narrated through the first-person POV of Megan Scott, one of the two main characters featured in this series.
Michael Elliott (main character #2)
The last time I’d seen him, he was reading Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood while our English Lit professor lectured the class on Renaissance culture. I had a secret “thing” for this boy with the tousled brown hair and blue eyes, but he didn’t even know I existed.
He looked as if he’d just stepped out of bed and all the more charismatic than I remembered. His tanned, chiseled features suggested a preference for rigorous outdoor pursuits, such as mountain climbing or sail boating, rather than writing. Tousled brown hair still framed those blue eyes.
Tom Scott (Megan’s husband)
I stood on my toes and wrapped my arms around his neck. “You know that trying to get pregnant is the most important part, don’t you?” I kissed him on the lips.
He responded with a passion that made me want him even more and reminded me how much I loved him.
We lingered in bed later, my head resting against his back. Even in the dim light, I could see the small tattoo of two intertwining roses on his lower back—the same one we’d both had engraved while honeymooning in Nassau.
Pam Strober (Megan’s boss and friend)
The metal tips of Pam’s three-inch heels clicked against the back-and-white checkered linoleum as she moved to her desk, the trail of Prada perfume lingering in the air behind her.
Pam had dated more men in the last year than other thirty-three-year-old women had in a lifetime. “Use them, then lose them” was her mantra.
I sat down, glanced at her collection of cat figurines displayed in a corner bookcase. Trips-without-sex gifts from the older men she’d dated. I was relieved to see she hadn’t added any other pieces since January.
Detective Lieutenant Moreau
I caught the scent of cigarette smoke on Moreau’s clothes as he breezed past me into the living room. A tweed jacket, a lilac shirt, and a tie that looked as if it had been used to wipe off paintbrushes gave the impression he’d selected his clothes in the dark. While strands of mousey-brown hair made a futile attempt to cover the top of his head, a thick mustache filled the narrow space between thin lips and a pointy nose. Sporting a black attaché case, he could have passed for a fifty-year-old salesman peddling insurance door-to-door.
Emily Saunders (Megan’s co-worker)
Emily strutted down the corridor toward us on black high heels identical to a pair Pam had bought at Browns Shoes last month. She couldn’t possibly afford designer strap sandals on her salary, so I assumed she’d dug them out of Pam’s office closet. Bits of mascara smudged the rims of her eyes and streaks of pale skin showed through where tears had washed away the makeup. That girl was going to be at a loss without her mentor around to crack the whip whenever she spoke out of line or applied her lipstick wrong.
Peter Ewans (Tom’s co-worker)
Gray hair at the temples, a sagging facial expression, and rimless gasses, Peter looked as if he’d aged ten years since I’d seen him weeks earlier. As we stood by the front door to my apartment, he handed me the car keys but dropped them. We both made a move to retrieve them. I was faster.
Tricia Bradford (wife of publishing company owner)
Bradford’s offices only occupied fifteen hundred square feet, so conversations flowed easily through the air when doors were left open. I couldn’t tell who the other woman was, but her tone of voice grew argumentative.
Footsteps approached. A woman with a stride that said, “Get out of my way!” whizzed past my office. Well-coiffed hair, dark blue suit, lots of makeup, fiftyish. Old money.
I recognized her as Tricia, the wife of company president, Bill Bradford.
Dan Cummings (lawyer)
Dan stood about four inches taller than Michael and had the kind of build that might have secured him a football scholarship in earlier days. Now salt-and-pepper hair and a fleshy waistline added years to his age. His leather shoes made a statement about the style of attire that people in his profession could afford, while Michael’s jeans and running shoes embodied the dress code for blasé writers.
Jane Barlow (paralegal)
Her hair hung straight down to her shoulders. A band pulled it away from her face to reveal high cheekbones and accent blue-gray eyes. She wore a navy jacket, a matching skirt that stopped right above the knee, a white shirt, and a pearl necklace. The look was austere, but I supposed it was all about depicting reliability and a sense of business ethics. The only thing that betrayed her woodenness was the scent of her perfume. A blend of lavender and vanilla, it alluded to a lighter, more carefree side of her personality and was more in line with her age group. Rather, our age group.
This list isn’t complete, and other characters play minor though colorful and vital roles in False Impressions. There’s Mrs. Speck, the snooping widow; Willie, the elusive informant; and Anita, the hotel maid who… Well, you’ll have to read the book to find out!