We gave it a respectful burial in the corner of our yard, right where we were going to put a new shed.
Thus, I got an idea. What if it wasn't a parrot, but a different kind of "bird" buried there. Thus I came up with this lovely little convoluted murder plot with betrayal, illicit behaviour and lies. (I doubt my real-life neighbors ever suspected I gave them such sordid fantasy lives.)
I love the plot, I was improving in the craft, but this novel is safely trunked, simply because I am not a Thriller author, nor do I have any intent on ever becoming one.
Mr and Mrs Hauser scored a lovely deal on their first home. Why anyone would sell such a nice place at such a low price? Someone was keeping a secret. What's in the locked shed and where's the key?
All their neighbors have plenty of issues of their own, from suspected infidelity to a missing teenage daughter.
When digging a new garden in the back yard, Mrs Hauser comes across a rather difficult 'tree root' that turns out to be the arm of a dead body. Once the body is identified, the drama of the neighborhood spills over into their lives.
The Hausers wonder if they've paid too much for their house.
You know how Everyone has one novel in them, and once they write it, they have no desire to write another one? This is my Novel In Me. I'm glad I wrote it. I enjoy the story. I have no desire to write another contemporary Thriller ever again.
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Her Grace loves the Regency Romances of Georgette Heyer. She thinks her contemporary thrillers suck, and is very sorry she read "Behold, Here's Poison".
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