I don’t know why Dru asked me to tell her readers about a day in my life. It’s nothing special. I’m just an ordinary, twenty-six-year-old female living in a cozy little bootleg unit near the beach in Southern California. I get up every morning like the rest of you, dress in office attire, and commute to work in a car about half my age. There is one small problem I’ve had lately: nervousness. I can’t think straight, I’m that jittery. How do you handle a bad case of nerves? Do you read? Listen to music? Exercise? Bake a coconut cream pie (let me know when you do and I’ll be right over)? Or maybe you have a more unique way of calming your nerves. Like me. I clean my collection of illegal weaponry.
Now, don’t go calling 9-1-1. I see you, Dru, phone in hand. Everyone relax. They’re not exactly my weapons. They’re my dad’s and I’m just taking care of them. Private investigators need a lot of different weaponry – any one of them might come in handy. Let’s just say a wide array of people have tangled with my dad. It’s true, I’ve tagged along and sort of helped on some of his murder cases, but I’m not a P.I. Besides, those days are behind me. I’m a lawyer now. With a new job. One that’s completely out of my league. And that explains my nervousness.
I just landed a dream job in a Hollywood movie studio with high level executives, and actors and directors that are household names. Which is fantastic. . .except, I have zero experience. So my weapon cleaning is a harmless distraction. But it doesn’t help much.
Since I’m feeling nervous, I usually end up arriving at work too early. When that happens, I park in the lot across the street from my building, and hideout in the shrubbery. Well, I’m not exactly hiding. I stand behind the bushes and wait and watch and collect my thoughts. I guess I’m stuck in surveillance mode from days spent trailing Dad on his cases. You learn a lot that way.
For instance, yesterday, I noticed the CEO of my company, Arthur Keith, park his Aston Martin by the studio entrance. He opened his trunk, removed a black backpack, and high-tailed it over to a clump of trees. Minutes later, a pickup pulled in and stopped by the same trees. Arthur popped out and over to the pickup and handed the driver the backpack. Backpacks are good for transporting all sorts of stuff – books, clothes, shoes, even pressure cooker bombs.
Dru, wait. No need to call Homeland Security. Not yet. I’m going to find out what was in that backpack. I really am. Even though I’m not a private investigator and never will be. I’m not my father. Plus, I just landed this dream job, remember? I don’t want to be fired. I need the dough. I’m sure there’s a simple explanation, don’t you think? It’s not like an ordinary backpack can have anything to do with a murder, right?
You can read more about Corrie and her adventures in Murder and Other Unnatural Disasters, the first in the NEW “Southern California” mystery series, published by The Wild Rose Press.
About Murder and Other Unnatural Disasters
Watch out Southern California! There’s a new entertainment attorney in town and she’s got game. Only problem is, it’s not the one she should be playing. Corrie Locke belongs behind a desk, not behind a Glock. She should be taking VIP calls, not nosing around a questionable suicide. Instead, she’s hot on the trail of a murderer. Luckily, she’s the daughter of a late, great private eye, and she’s inherited his love of sleuthing. . .and illegal weaponry. It doesn’t help matters that her gene for caution is a recessive one. Corrie finds herself in the center of a murder case, unearthing suspects in shocking places. With a cold-blooded killer on the loose, Corrie will have to up her game. . .or die trying.
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Meet the author
Like her heroine, Corrie Locke, Lida Sideris hails from Los Angeles and worked as an entertainment attorney for a film studio. She has written numerous magazine and newspaper articles, a poem or two, and a teleplay. Lida resides in the northern tip of Southern California with her family, their rescue shepherds, Barbie (short for Barbarian) and Duncan, and a flock of uppity chickens. She was the recipient of the 2014 Helen McCloy/Mystery Writers of America scholarship. Lida gets her kicks from twisting and turning reality around. On the page, of course.