Aging friends form a detective agency in their Scottish village, but their success seems dubious. One is blind, two have hearing problems, one uses a crutch—and the two youngest members are from America, not Scotland.
Calling themselves the Fog Busters, the friends vow to solve a murder that local police have labeled “Death by Misadventure.” Misadventure seems to stalk the Fog Busters when the killer attempts to halt their investigation.
Add in a lost treasure in rare Scottish coins, a false prophet, a string of house breakings and dog nappings, and a dog fighting ring—and the Fog Busters have the recipe for laughter and danger. With four unattached members of their group, they also have a chance at romance. But do they have the ability to solve the string of crimes that haunt their small village—and will all of them survive throughout the investigation?
I’ve survived mauling by an African lion.
I’ve survived a deadly snake bite.
I’ve emerged victorious from childhood sexual abuse.
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
The most life-impacting decision I’ve ever made is the transition from atheist to Christian. My two favorite Bible verses are “in everything give thanks,” and “all things work together to good for those who love the Lord.”
I thought the worst day in my life was the day I lost my job; my mother died and I couldn’t attend her funeral because my husband was sent home from the hospital to die; our sheepdog died, and my truck caught on fire in downtown San Antonio. Then I learned what a really bad day is. My son USMC Major Luke Parker died in a plane crash on November 17, 2013. It doesn’t get worse than that.
I’m now married to Alan McKean, author of historic time travel books. We live in Dunoon, Scotland, and I do what I’ve wanted to do since childhood—write books in my favorite genre, mystery-romance-suspense. But about the lion bite.
Along with an innate pride for Texas, I was born with a love for animals. When I was five, my first pet was a grasshopper that I carried around on a silver spoon. When I accidentally dropped spoon and grasshopper down the radiator in an upstairs apartment building, I sobbed. My mother sobbed. The spoon had been a wedding gift.
History repeated itself when my five-year-old son’s pet grasshopper was consumed by a small spider. Luke sobbed. I sobbed. That experience inspired me to write “I’m the Grasshopper.” But back to the lion bite.
Because I was an unpopular child, I kept snakes as pets. Riding a bicycle with a snake around my neck made boys notice me. (They thought I was crazy.) I must have been crazy. I got bit by a cottonmouth. But, about the lion.
Ebenezer arrived in the back of a station wagon to join our family’s roadside zoo. The 200-pound pet fit right in with our family, until he reached 400 pounds and became a lion.
When I quit riding bicycles with snakes in my quixotic attempt to impress boys, I remained immature enough to use a gimmick like an African lion. I invited a fellow college student home to see Eb. Not realizing that Eb had transformed from pet to lion, I walked up to him. Eb grabbed me by the stomach, threw me to the ground, and mauled me. My terrified college friend jerked me out of the cage – which made Eb bite even harder. “I hope I did that right,” he panted. “I’ve never had to rescue anyone from a lion before!” I never saw Ed again.