Tell me about yourself, and your writing. I'm a former bookstore manager, video producer and public television exec and started writing after seeing a two line item in the newspaper about a mummified body that was found not far from my home. I did a little snooping and wound up having a telephone interview with a doctor who had assisted in the autopsy. He told me two things that weren't in the paper which I thought would make good clues in a mystery. I'd never written anything longer than an email before. It took about 18 months but I simply wrote the story and rewrote it until I felt confident enough to send it to an agent. I've since read a few books which would have cut short the process but I still believe it's all in the re-writing.
How long have you been writing? How many published books do you have, and what genres? I started writing in 2004, found an agent in 2006 and my first book was published in 2008. I have five published novels, the first four considered traditional mysteries and the most recent falling into the category of women's fiction - although I believe all fiction has at least an element of mystery.
Do you write in multiple genres or just one? If just one, do you ever consider straying outside your genre? I think the story comes to me first and then it reveals itself as either a mystery or what publishers and agents like to call contemporary women's fiction. I just call it my book.
Are you a plotter or do you write from the seat of your pants? I have a general idea of the story I want to tell and then I outline a few chapters at a time. My mysteries are written in the first person and that lends itself to linear storytelling. The Bitches of Brooklyn is written with an omniscient narrator and it was fun for me to experiment with parallel storylines and timelines.
What is a typical writing day like for you? Every day is different! I wish I had a more regular schedule but I'm all over the place. I don't typically get up and start writing though. I'm more likely to work out or take the dog for a walk in the park before I sit down to write.
Who do you love to read? Favorite authors, favorite books? Contemporary authors - Carl Hiaasen, Susan Isaacs, Richard Yates and Robert Hellenga. Classics - Henry James and Edith Wharton. Some favorite books - The Razor's Edge, Easter Parade, The Fall of a Sparrow, The Golden Bowl, Small Changes and A Prayer for Owen Meany.
What is something you'd like to accomplish in your writing career next year? I'd love to finish the sequel to Bitches - AND complete the historical novel I started earlier this year, but I don't see myself writing two books in one year! And the historical is requiring an enormous amount of research. Fun, but labor intensive.
If you could have one paranormal ability, what would it be? I'd love to have total recall. Imagine remembering everything you've ever read!
If you could keep a mythical/ paranormal creature as a pet, what would you have?Pegasus. I love horses - and who wouldn't like to fly?
Tell us a little about your latest release. Life, love, friendships, marriages, work, children, parents, laughs, tears and a fair amount of wine.
Are they really bitches? That depends who you ask...Rachel, Clare, Tina and Jane are four friends awaiting the arrival of a fifth at a secluded Cape Cod bungalow where they spend an all-girls weekend every summer. But this year the fifth woman doesn't show.
Instead she sends a note that reads - "I've run off with one of your men."
Has she? Is it a prank? Do they run for the phone or try to enjoy the weekend without her? Fun, flirty and filled with snappy dialogue and quirky characters forced to reevaluate their marriages, their friendships and their memories, The Bitches of Brooklyn has been called "a cross between Pretty Little Liars and Sex in the City."
Inspired by a classic Hollywood film, The Bitches of Brooklyn is for every woman who's ever had a best friend and wondered...is she really??
What is something that you absolutely can't live without? (Other than family members)Private time. I need at least one day a week when the only creature I talk to is my dog, Max.
Could you ever co author a book with someone? If so, who would you choose, and what would you write? A year ago I would have said never - but now I have this fantasy about writing a book with Susan Isaacs. She's one of my idols. And we'd write suburban noir laced with humor - not unlike her wonderful book, Compromising Positions.
If you could spend a day with anyone from history, dead or alive, who would it be, and what would you do? What would you ask them? Queen Livia, Emperor Augustus' wife. Some historians think she really pulled the strings and influenced the landscape of the world for decades. I probably wouldn't have dinner with her though - she was reputed to be an accomplished poisoner.
What are some of your other hobbies outside of writing? I'm a master gardener in Connecticut and can happily spend 8-10 hours a day digging in the dirt. I also love to kayak - I've paddled in Alaska, the Sea of Cortez and the Virgin Islands. I even found a place to kayak in France.
If you were on the staff to have a book adapted to movie, what would you pick? The Bitches of Brooklyn, of course! Oh, did you mean someone else's book - Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet. Loved that book.
What is a talent you wish you had, but don't? I wish I had learned to play a musical instrument when I was young.
Favorite color? To wear - black.
Weather: Hot or cold? Hot!
Favorite place to read? In a hammock - preferably one hanging in the Virgin Islands.
Favorite meal - Balsamic chicken with root veggies. It's an old Williams Sonoma recipe and I make it as often as I can get my husband to eat it.
Favorite non-alcoholic drink. Diet Red Bull
If you could travel anywhere and do anything, no limits or money holding you back, where would you go? I'd love to travel and Australia and New Zealand. Call it The Thorn Birds effect but ever since reading that book I've wanted to go and I've never had the time.
Blurb:
From the author of the Anthony and Agatha-nominated Pushing Up Daisies and Dead Head.
Are they really bitches? That depends who you ask...four friends await the arrival of a fifth at a secluded Cape Cod bungalow where they spend an all-girls weekend every summer. But this year the fifth woman doesn't show. Instead she sends a note that reads - "I've run off with one of your men."
Has she? Is it a prank? Do they run for the phone or try to enjoy the weekend without her? Fun, flirty and filled with Harris' trademark snappy dialogue and quirky characters forced to reevaluate their marriages, their friendships and their memories, The Bitches of Brooklyn has been called "a cross between Pretty Little Liars and Sex in the City."
Inspired by a classic Hollywood film, The Bitches of Brooklyn will appeal to readers of Jennifer Weiner, Cathleen Schine and Susan Isaacs and is for every woman who's ever had a best friend and wondered...is she really??
Chapter One
As deliveries went, this one was somewhere between a balloon telegram and a bulletproof vest wrapped around a dead fish. Most gift baskets arrived with cards bearing congratulations or condolences. Rarely were they sent with the simple two-line message Jane Monaghan stared at, then read, in disbelief, a second time.
A skinny delivery boy hovered in the doorway, the screen door flapping and creaking as he shifted his weight. Jane fumbled in her handbag for a tip. Why did she never have singles when she needed them? As she poked through the tissues, keys and various black electronics cases in her voluminous bag, the boy peered inside the house, curious about the women renting the old Beninger place. He remembered the first year they came. His mother had warned him to keep his distance and his father had slipped him a sly wink that he'd been too young to interpret.
They weren't bad looking, neither young nor old, that gray area between youth and invisibility. Still good for a nooner, he fantasized, using an expression he’d heard his uncle Billy use, if he could cut one from the herd. Especially the small, dark-haired one sprawled on the loveseat near the fireplace. She had a nubby throw tossed over one leg but the other was exposed – tan, taut and barely covered by denim cutoffs. Still pretty hot, even if she looked old enough to have been his babysitter - and after all, what boy hadn't had that fantasy?
The hot one and the boy made eye contact. Having been on the receiving end of similar looks for close to twenty years – longer than he’d been alive – it took Tina Ruggiero all of thirty seconds to read his mind.
“Come back in a few years, sonny. You’re not entirely hopeless but, let’s wait until that acne clears up.”
The boy’s naughty daydream evaporated, his face reddened and he reverted to bumbling, pimply errand boy. His eyes grew watery. He even seemed shorter, if that was possible. Jane abandoned her search for singles, shoved a five in his direction and kicked the storm door shut.
“A day without a verbal castration is like a day without sunshine?”
“Come on,” Tina said. “He deserved it – gawking like that. Half the people in this town think we're practicing witchcraft and the other half think we’re gay. Not that I don't think you're all cute. I just wanted to set the record straight.”
Jane wasn’t sure the exchange wouldn’t have the opposite effect, convincing him she was a witch, only he’d spell it with a “b.” Which was fitting since that's what they'd been dubbed a long time ago when they were teens, The Bitches of Brooklyn. Were they really? Depended who you asked.
“A new wrinkle has been added to our weekend,” Jane said.
"Oh no please, not another one. I already have a new wrinkle, that's why I cut bangs."
"I wondered what the new hairstyle was about."
Jane carried the oversized basket to the wooden dining table where Clare Didrikson and Rachel Weiner, two of her closest friends, sat with their morning coffees.
The table and chairs were like all the furniture in the rented house - ancient wood or wicker upon which thousands of summer memories had been made, or brand new, from the discount store, because who would buy good furniture for a house through which total strangers traipsed for three months out of every year? Or suffered from too much sun and too much damp. Jane pulled out a chair and read the card aloud to the group.
"It's a joke," Tina said. She flung off the blanket and hopped over on her one good ankle to join them. "Just like her to bail at the last minute and then pull a stunt like this. She’s probably laughing her ass off somewhere, ordering the next fruit basket with the next cryptic message. Luca Brasi sleeps with the fishes! Go to the hayfield, there’ll be a volcanic rock that has no earthly business in a Maine hayfield. She’s always so melodramatic. Can't she just admit something better came up?"
It was not the first time their missing friend had cancelled at the last minute even though the dates were fixed well in advance. The four were always understanding but there was always a trace of resentment, too. As if the others were expected to understand that the fifth woman’s time was more valuable than theirs.
The four women settled around the table in the weather-beaten Cape Cod bungalow they'd rented every summer for the last six years. They met for the same late summer weekend when husbands and partners were otherwise engaged, either of their own accord or dispatched so the women wouldn't feel guilty about leaving four men, one daughter, one veterinary practice, and two businesses for much girl talk and more alcohol in an ocean beach setting far removed from their Brooklyn beginnings.
Initially, they had played "remember when" and speculated on what had happened to still-missing friends from the old neighborhood. That first year Rachel brought her laptop and their old high school yearbook, and between drinks and steamers they Googled and giggled over former boyfriends and teachers, most of whom had lost their hair, gotten heavy, or somehow morphed into ordinary mortals instead of the brooding geniuses and bohemian heartthrobs they’d once seemed. After that, it was agreed - no laptops at The Weekend.
But it wasn't all about the old days. The five women had forged new friendships. What felt better than familiar but new - the safety net of people who knew your background and your history, but, because of the time spent apart, brought the freshness of anecdotes and stories you hadn't heard a hundred times before. And they’d helped each other professionally, with contacts and as trustworthy soundingboards.
Clare reached over to read the card for herself, looking for...what? Some explanation hidden between the lines? Some tone or nuance conveyed in the elegant script of an anonymous clerk in a gift shop? She chewed on her lower lip but said nothing.
Jane tugged on the purple ribbon at the top of the basket, untying the bow and noisily releasing the twisted cellophane. She flattened the ribbon and wound it around four fingers as if saving it for some future use, which wasn't likely since they'd all be home in a few days. A hidden staple pierced one slim, unmanicured index finger and she sucked on it while poking through the basket with her undamaged hand.
"At least she sprang for the good stuff.” Jane held up a red foil-covered brick. “Real cheese, not cheese product."
"And candy," Rachel said. "Just what we need."
Tina and Jane plundered the basket, Jane moving through the items and inspecting ingredients. "Cream crackers, no partially hydrogenated anything so far." Jane was co-owner of a small bakery called Sweet Dreams and paid attention to such things. Tina wasn't so picky. Two grunts and an arched eyebrow told her the others were less appreciative of their missing friend's nutritional considerations. "Belgian chocolates. Scottish cookies," Jane said, still sucking on her punctured finger.
"Please don’t get blood on anything," Tina said. "If there are shortbread cookies, I’ve got dibs. I don't care if they have lard in them but I draw the line at bodily fluids.”
Despite Rachel's protestations, the chocolate would disappear first. No chance to melt or develop that mysterious white stuff around the edges. Then the cheese, the crackers and the fruit, one step up from artificial and typically chosen not for taste but for their ability to retain an unblemished appearance despite being shipped thousands of miles. All the food would go, even the boring sucking candies, and all that would remain was a tasteful brown basket, some purple ribbon and the note -
Apologies for the short notice but I won't be making our little reunion this year. I've run off with one of your men.
Review Rating: 4 LIGHTNING BOLTS
Review: Five friends. A reunion. A change of events and lots of soul searching....This novel's blurb captured me and I had to read it. Boy am i glad I did! The story has a lot going for it- humor, mystery, soul searching, bonds of friendship being tested...Definitely had me engaged and wanting to know more. The characters are well developed, each with their own flaws, quirks, and unique things that made them stand out. This book is the perfect afternoon read, one that will entrance your mind and make you want to forget everything else. I'm interested in more stories by this author!
Author Bio:
Rosemary Harris has been a bookstore manager, a video producer and a public television exec. Her debut novel, the Agatha and Anthony-nominated, Pushing Up Daisies, was followed by The Big Dirt Nap, Dead Head andSlugfest, all titles in her Dirty Business mystery series. She is past president of Mystery Writers of America's NY Chapter and Sisters in Crime's New England Chapter. Like some of the characters in The Bitches of Brooklyn she was born in Brooklyn but now lives in New York City and Fairfield County, Connecticut.
To learn more about Rosemary and all of her books visit her atwww.rosemaryharris.com and Like her on facebook atwww.facebook.com/RosemaryHarriswriter
Trade paperback and ebook available at Amazon and bn.com now!
From the author of the Anthony and Agatha-nominated Pushing Up Daisies and Dead Head.
Are they really bitches? That depends who you ask...four friends await the arrival of a fifth at a secluded Cape Cod bungalow where they spend an all-girls weekend every summer. But this year the fifth woman doesn't show. Instead she sends a note that reads - "I've run off with one of your men."
Has she? Is it a prank? Do they run for the phone or try to enjoy the weekend without her? Fun, flirty and filled with Harris' trademark snappy dialogue and quirky characters forced to reevaluate their marriages, their friendships and their memories, The Bitches of Brooklyn has been called "a cross between Pretty Little Liars and Sex in the City."
Inspired by a classic Hollywood film, The Bitches of Brooklyn will appeal to readers of Jennifer Weiner, Cathleen Schine and Susan Isaacs and is for every woman who's ever had a best friend and wondered...is she really??
"Rosemary Harris is a GEM of a writer." Joanne Fluke, NYTimes best-selling author of the Hannah Swenson series. "Smart, sassy and sophisticated, The Bitches of Brooklyn may be the best female buddy book yet. I dare you to put it down." Elaine Viets, best-selling author of The Dead End Job series and Catnapped!
Thanks for being in the tour!
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