Monday, September 25, 2017

Counting Room

The victim was an investigative journalist working the biggest story of his career.
He found something that shook him to his core.
What secret did he take to his grave?


Detective Gabriel Ward is a former Army intelligence officer with degrees in computer science and physics. As his department's computer crimes expert, he uses computer forensics to solve crimes as much as his street sense. But when he's called to identify the remains of his brother-in-law at a crime scene, none of his formidable technical abilities matter.

Gabe's orders are simple: assist the case where appropriate and stay away otherwise. He tries to do just that. But then, his sister and her family are attacked. Witnesses start dying.

Somewhere, Gabe is being set up as the fall guy for murders he didn't commit.

As he digs into his brother-in-law's life, he starts connecting dots in a conspiracy far vaster and more dangerous than he could have imagined.

Violent men attacked people Gabe loves. That's not something he can forgive. With his family threatened, Gabe is forced to question everything he believes about himself and his job. To protect his loved ones and unravel the treacherous web surrounding him, this detective will hang up his badge and step into a dark world he left behind years ago. He'll hunt the men who hunt him. But will he find them before they strike again?

Counting Room is the first thrilling Gabe Ward novel. If you're a Vince Flynn fan, you'll love New York Times' bestselling author Chris Culver's newest series. 
The book is available on:



Tuesday, January 31, 2017

No Room for Good Men




Nine years ago, Lieutenant Ash Rashid and a partner worked one of the most brutal homicides Indianapolis had ever seen. Despite everything Ash and his partner did, they never solved the case. They never even identified the victims.

Now, a new murder forces Ash to open a nine-year-old file on a case he wishes he could forget, drawing him into an investigation that makes him question some of his most closely held beliefs. With every step he makes, Ash finds himself uncovering truths that dangerous men would prefer to remain secret. As he follows the trail, these dangerous men act. Innocent men and women die to keep a secret hidden, and with each new body, Ash finds himself drawing near his breaking point.

And then beyond...


Available on:

Amazon [US] [UK] [CA]

Saturday, January 7, 2017

Start with the crime


When I pick up a detective story by an unknown writer, there’s a pretty good chance it’ll start with the antagonist committing a crime. It’s a tried and true opening, and it’s not hard to see why. There’s conflict between the criminal and his victim, there’s action, there’s energy, and there’s excitement. How could you possibly go wrong opening a book like this? Unfortunately, it’s surprisingly easy.

Before we can get into the ways this kind of opening can go wrong, I thought it’d be helpful to look at a couple of examples of authors doing it very well and then to talk about the things they have in common. We’ll start with one of my favorite contemporary authors, John Sandford.

If you write detective novels—particularly hard-boiled novels—and you’ve not read John Sandford’s Prey series, you owe yourself a trip to the library. Sandford is a bestselling author for a very good reason: he consistently good books. You can’t go wrong picking up a Sandford novel, and he starts many [maybe all?] of his Prey books with his antagonist on the hunt for a victim.

If you’ve not read it, check out Rules of Prey, the first book in his Prey series, on Amazon. You can get a free sample that includes the first chapter.  It’s an excellent detective story, and it starts with the antagonist stalking a young woman he plans to murder.

One thing you’ll notice when you read the first chapter, though, is that the Louis Vullion, the maddog, isn’t just following this woman around. He’s thinking the entire time. Sanford gets us into the head of a truly vile man. We, unfortunately, don’t have a lot of background to explain why Louis Vullion became the Mad Dog, but even still Sanford gives us a very clear, very detailed picture of this villain.

Louis thinks and makes judgments about the victim, for instance. He comments that even if he doesn’t kill the victim, the microwave food she eats probably will. In commenting like this, Sanford shows us that Louis Vullion has a macabre sense of humor. He has a very distinct personality.

More than that, Louis Vullion is smart. He lives and works by certain rules.

“Never kill anyone you know.
Never have a motive.
Never follow a discernible pattern.
Never carry a weapon after it has been used.
Isolate yourself from random discovery.
Beware of leaving physical evidence.”

He thinks of killing people and getting away with it as a game. At one point Sandford writes that Louis liked the idea of traveling from city to city in order to murder random people without getting caught but found it “ultimately, intellectually sterile. He was developing. He wanted the contest. Needed it.”

The picture we get in the first chapter is that of an absolutely vile, chilling, intelligent villain who’s not going to stop murdering people unless an equally intelligent, resourceful and capable protagonist stops him. This is an extremely engaging chapter that works on multiple levels.

Sanford isn’t the only major author who starts his detective stories this way. Consider James Patterson. In terms of sales, Patterson exists in a class by himself. He sells millions upon millions of books every year. If you’ve not read them, the books of his Alex Cross series are consistently entertaining, and they oftentimes start with the villain attacking or stalking a victim.

Consider the prologue in Kissthe Girls.  In it, we follow two different murderers as they go about killing their intended victims. Patterson doesn’t develop the psychology of his murderers as well as Sanford, but he doesn’t need to. What he does do, though, is show us two meticulous, intelligent murderers on the prowl. We get an immediate sense that these are dangerous people. Casanova, for instance, has spent weeks hiding inside the walls of his victims’ home. He bought books with him to entertain him. He knows intimate details about his victims’ lives. Furthermore, he paints his body to look like a warrior and describes the night in which he murders them as “the night of nights. The beginning of everything that really mattered in his life.”

Clearly, this is an unhinged man. The gentleman caller is similarly unhinged. He follows a couple to a lake and then murders the guy. Afterwards, he says to the woman that he didn’t mean to scare her. Then he says “We’re old friends. To be perfectly honest, I’ve watched you for over two years.”

The prologue works very well. It’s creepy and unsettling. More than that, it makes me want to read more.

Bearing these two very different writers in mind, I think we can come up with a couple of guidelines for openings like this.

If you’re going to start with a villain, the villain has to be interesting and well developed.

You make a villain interesting the same way you make any character interesting. You let me know him. You give him a sense of humor. You give him a history. You give him positive qualities—intelligence, resourcefulness, inventiveness, patience, etc. You make him excellent at what he or she does. More than any of that, you give him stakes just as you do with your protagonist. Give your villain a goal and a reason for wanting to achieve that goal. Properly motivate him. By doing that, you’ll make him all the more dangerous.

Consider Louis Vullion again. His needs and desires, as sick as they are, matter to him. By killing people and then engaging in games with the police, Louis satisfies some deep psychological need, he gains something valuable to him. In other words, Louis is a very well motivated character with stakes of his own. He can’t stop. If he fails once, he’s going to dust himself off and start up again. That’s a big part of what makes him such a successful character.

Patterson’s villains, again, aren’t as well developed, but you also get the sense that these guys are fulfilling some deep psychological need of theirs as well. Otherwise, they wouldn’t go to the lengths they do to kill their victims. The important thing to note is that these antagonists are at least as well motivated as the protagonists are to stop them.

Furthermore, by establishing your victim so well and by making him so formidable and well motivated, you’ll be forced to make your protagonist his equal. You’ll be forced to create an inventive, resourceful, intelligent hero to counteract the villain. If your hero isn’t just as smart or resourceful, he’ll fail. So make your villain strong and interesting.

There needs to be tension from the very first sentence to the last.

Consider the first sentence of Patterson’s Kiss the Girls: “FOR THREE weeks, the young killer actually lived inside the walls of an extraordinary fifteen-room beach house.” That’s chilling. Right away, I anticipate something awful is going to happen. There’s immediate tension.

Or consider this line from Rules of Prey. “The maddog waited in the dark.” It’s not the first line of the novel, but it’s very early. It immediately makes me ask, “What’s he waiting for?”  After reading that, I can’t help but feel something very bad is going to happen.

Because the characters are so well developed, I know this tension is going to last. Even if they achieve their immediate goal in the chapter, they’ve got bigger goals they haven’t achieved yet. I know they’re going to kill again in the future, and that lends energy and urgency to the entire rest of the story.

You need to set the tone for the novel

If you’re writing a grim, hardboiled novel, you need to establish it right away. Both Sanford and Patterson do that well. You establish a contract with your readers with your first chapter. If your first chapter is all about unicorns who eat sunshine and crap rainbows, I would feel very put out if those same unicorns start vivisecting the animals of the enchanted forest in chapter 2.

Keep the tension going

Consider these two scenarios.

A.     Henry gets into a heated argument with Henrietta, murders her, and then sits on his couch to watch Wheel of Fortune until the police show up.
B.     Henry gets into a heated argument with Henrietta, murders her, and then drags her body to his car to dispose of her. He takes her out to the woods, and starts digging a hole, but then a family of hikers comes across him and asks if he needs help. The chapter then ends with Henry fingering the trigger of his pistol in his pocket, wondering what he should do.

It’s obvious that Scenario B creates the better first chapter. In both scenarios, the heated argument with Henrietta produces tension. As readers, we anticipate something bad happening. In Scenario A, though, that tension disappears when Henry murders Henrietta and then sits down. It may have been exciting until that point, but once he sits down, the conflict is over. What’s more, I don’t anticipate future conflict. That’s boring. If a book is boring, I’m going to close it.

In Scenario B, the tension continues. I anticipate further bad things happening.

Patterson and Sandford manage to keep the tension high throughout their novels, and they both do that in part by developing villains who can’t stop. The maddog in Sandford’s novel has killed before and developed rules for how he kills. Killing is part of who he is. He won’t stop until someone stops him. Though we don’t know as much about Casanova or the Gentleman Caller in Kiss The Girls, those things we do know point to them as having the same sort of psychological proclivities. Casanova, for instance, hid inside a family’s ductwork for three weeks before murdering them. The Gentleman Caller watched a woman for two years before murdering her and her boyfriend. These are not normal people.

By developing their villains like this, Patterson and Sandford do more than create tension; they create urgency. There’s a ticking time-bomb element. If the protagonist doesn’t stop them soon, they’ll kill again. It could make for a very exciting story, and it starts in the first chapter.

The crime in your novel doesn’t have to be murder, and the villain doesn’t have to be a serial killer. That said, you need to give your readers a sense that your antagonist has big plans. You don’t need to tell me what those plans are, but I want a sense within the chapter that he’s going to do more than he’s already done.

Bottom line:

If you can do those four things within your chapter—establish an interesting villain, create tension within the chapter, set the tone for your story, and leave me anticipating further crimes—then you’ll probably do just fine. There are a couple of things to watch out for, though. I’ll list a few of them.


Lack of Originality and Depth

This is the big one. Because this kind of opening is done so often, you really need to think long and hard about your villain. There are so many books on the market that you’re never going to make someone completely unique. You need to put your own twist, though, on the characters you create.

Right now, you’re probably saying “But wait! You mentioned John Sanford’s Louis Vullion as a good example, but he’s a cliché! I’ve read about dozens of murderers who believe they’re playing a game with the police.”  As true as that is now, it wasn’t true in 1989 when the book was published. At the time, it was refreshing and interesting.

I can’t tell you how many novels I’ve picked up that have Hannibal Lecter clones. You can do a similar character, but you’re never going to write Hannibal Lecter as well as Thomas Harris. If you try, I will continually judge you against him and find you wanting every time.

Also, make your villain more than a generic serial killer. Serial killer novels are a dime a dozen. If you’re going to write one, really dig deep in your villain’s psychology. Develop him. Give him a backstory, give him internal tension, give him a motive and a reason for acting the way he is.

Incompetent villains

Your villain doesn’t need to be a criminal genius, but he can’t do blatantly stupid things that would lead to him being caught immediately.  That means if your book is set in contemporary America, for instance, you should know a thing or two about modern forensics—or at least, you should know the tropes of the genre as developed on television.

Your protagonist should catch your hero because of his tenacity and hard work, not because your villain is incompetent.

I could probably go on for a while, but I think you get the idea. If you start your detective novel like this, there’s a good chance you’re going to do just fine. Good luck.

How to start a detective novel


I’ve spent my career writing detective stories of one sort or another. They’re fun to write, but they’re even more fun to read. As a freelance editor, I work on more police procedurals and PI novels than I do any other genre, and I see many of the same problems repeated in the first chapter. To help remedy that, I thought I’d write a blog post. Before I get into anything else, though, let me say this: the best way to learn how to write a good novel is to read good novels. If you’re an inexperienced writing trying to learn the craft, you need to read. If you’re not reading, you’re doing it wrong.

All that out of the way, let me get to the clickbait: there are only three acceptable opening chapters to a detective story.

It’s not as controversial as it seems. A writer can [1] open with the antagonist committing a crime, a writer can [2] start with the protagonist investigating that crime, or [3] he can do something else.

In this series of blog posts, we’re going to look at all three possibilities. I’ll include links to examples from bestselling novels, I’ll discuss the keys to making these types of openings work, and then I’ll discuss the pitfalls of these approaches and how you might apply them to your own work.

As time goes on and I actually write these posts, I’ll update this page with links.

2.     Open with the investigation
3.     Do something else