An Interview & Excerpt with Author, Violet Ingram

Where were you born? 

Dayton, Ohio. I’ve lived here almost all of my life. I figure it was good enough for Orville and Wilbur Wright it’s good enough for me.

What inspired you to write your first book? 

I’d been making up stories since I was a kid. After the birth of my fourth child, I decided it was time to put some of them down on paper.

Do you write full-time or part-time? 

It depends on the week. I’m a stay-at-home mom with five kids. I’d say until recently it was part-time but now it is full-time unless a kid is sick then all bets are off.

How did you come up with the title? 

Actually, I came up with the title first and then wrote the book. I just had an image of a bloody high heeled shoe and went for it.

Are experiences in the book based on someone you know, or events in your own life? 

No, thank goodness or else somebody would definitely be in need of bail money and I don’t do that.

What book are you reading now? 

I just finished True Colors by Krysten Lindsay Hager. It is a middle grade to Young Adult book. I loved it and so did my girls.

What are your current projects? 

I’m working on DEATH BY NAIL GUN book two in the Kim Murphy Investigator series.

Who is your favorite author? 

Sorry, I can’t pick just one. That would be like choosing a favorite pair of shoes, or a purse, or a child. Can’t do it. That wouldn’t be fair to the others.

What was the hardest part of writing your book? 

I love getting the initial words on the page but the editing not so much. I second guess every single change I make. It drives me crazy.

Do you have any advice for writers? 

The two best pieces of advice I got were to keep writing and to read books that are in the same genre that you write in.

Now...let's check out an EXCLUSIVE excerpt from Violet's, Death By High Heels!

CHAPTER ONE

Sunday evening

Cops hate it when you vomit all over their crime scene--a mistake I had no desire to repeat. Then again, the fact I’d just trampled all over this scene was probably a whole new mistake I should have avoided. I stared at the corpse and fought the urge to hurl. If only I hadn’t answered the door, I’d be eating dinner instead of standing in my neighbor’s apartment looking at a dead guy.

Said dead guy was just sitting there in the chair. You would think he was asleep--if not for all the blood and guts spilled onto his lap. I tore my eyes from him and asked the question I most wanted the answer to.

“What the heck did you hit him with?”

Lindsay dropped the strand of blonde hair she’d been twirling and glanced down at the floor. “My shoe.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve already told you. Twice. I hit him with my shoe.”

“Damn it, Lindsay, you can’t kill someone with a shoe!”

“Hello, they’re Via Spiga.”

“Ugh.” I glared. There was no way in hell she had done this kind of damage with a shoe. If she had, women would soon be saying goodbye to their much-beloved accessory. Men--even NRA members--would insist on an instant ban of the deadly yet sexy weapon.

I set my hands on my hips. “Any idea how he got this giant hole in his stomach?”

“What? No, I hit him and ran.” Lindsay’s face paled and she leaned against the doorframe.

“Come here and see if you recognize him.”

“Gross, no way. Besides you’re the detective you figure out who he is.”

Technically, I was a private investigator, a fact that had continually escaped my neighbor.

“Get over here!” I turned toward her and spotted Lakeview, Ohio’s oldest beat cop standing behind her, his gun drawn. It would have been scary if only he didn’t look like Santa Claus dressed as a cop for Halloween. With the beginnings of a snow white beard and a pot belly in the making.

“Ah hell,” I muttered. “Hey Duncan.”

“Kim Murphy. Oh man, the Chief’s gonna be pissed,” Officer Duncan said.

“We don’t really have to tell him, do we?”

“You don’t think he’s gonna find out his daughter got herself mixed up with another dead guy? You didn’t kill this one too did you? Wait, don’t answer that.”

“I didn’t kill him. Jeez.”

Freedom, by Violet Ingram **Summer Blog Writing Challenge**

The Challenge:

In 3,000 words or less write about a woman that decides to go on vacation alone. Why did she do this? What does she do on her vacation? Does she discover romance, adventure, or danger?

The Result:

I sat across from my step-mother and tried not to stare as she sipped her tea. It tasted bitter, I knew, but now she needed me so there would be no snide comments today. She had easily believed I would donate a kidney to save my father’s life, even after he had left my mom and me for her. Once they’d said “I do” Janet had made sure he hadn’t had time for me, until now when he needed me or at least part of me.

I smiled as Janet’s eyes became heavy. I leaned across the table and grabbed the cup before any of the liquid could spill out. She tried to speak but her words were a garbled mess. I got up from the table and made sure when she slumped over that she didn’t fall to the floor. I wasn’t completely cruel or heartless.

I cleaned up the kitchen then pulled a gallon size plastic bag from my purse. I stuffed the two mugs inside and sealed it up. When I was sure everything was as it should be, I grabbed my purse and headed for my car.

***

Half way to my destination I pulled off the highway and disposed of anything that could be troublesome for me in the days to come.

Four hours later I pulled into the driveway of the old cabin where mom and I had spent our summers for the past 15 years. She’d fought tooth and nail for it during the divorce and my father had finally relented.

After I finished unpacking, I sat on the back deck with a lovely view of the lake and waited the phone to ring. I didn’t have long to wait. My father called with the “tragic” news of my step-mother’s death. I feigned surprise, but could not fabricate anything that resembled sympathy.

Over the next few days I enjoyed the peace and quiet in between my father’s more frequent and frantic calls. He was suffering. Not only had he “lost the love of his life”, but his health had declined, especially after I informed him that I had changed my mind about being his donor.

Twelve days into my vacation, my mom called with the good news-- my father had succumbed to a heart attack and would be buried next to my step-mother.

I left the cabin long enough to attend my father’s funeral and take care of all the legal stuff. As, I was his only living heir, I received his entire estate. Once everything was settled, I returned to the cabin. I anonymously sent five thousand dollars to the library where I’d stolen a book on untraceable poisons. I thought it was a fair trade.

I spent the rest of the summer enjoying the lake and my freedom for the first time in years. It truly was the best vacation of my life.

Violet Ingram
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