Book Blurb Friday #3: Murder at Sixx AND the Big, Fat Lie!
TGIBBF! I’ve been excited for today’s arrival because once my blurb idea rooted I had a blast with it and have been antsy to get it posted. Also, if you read Tuesday’s post, you know I told a big fat lie and have to fess up. Please read on, first for my 150-word-or-less blurb and then for the lie.
Murder at SixxJimmy Sixx is a cop turned restaurateur who works as a private eye for kicks. When not taste-testing the steak tartare and crème brulee dished up by the gorgeous Chef Rosalie Rousseau in the kitchen of Jimmy’s popular LA eatery, Dinner at Sixx, he’s sniffing out clues and solving crimes.When Jimmy’s ex-girlfriend, Poppy Silk, turns up dead in the freezer of Dinner at Sixx Jimmy becomes the prime suspect. With the help of Chef Rosalie, bartender Rusty Gunn, bouncer Ali Muscali, and Jimmy’s blue-haired mother, Edna, Jimmy works to clear his name before the cops come knocking.The clues lead the Sixxers from Chinatown to Vegas to Malibu, and finally back to Dinner at Sixx, where Jimmy learns the old adage is true: the proof is in the pudding.Dinner at Sixx is a rollicking ride of murder, mayhem, and fine dining. Make your reservation now! (147 words)
I feel some Jimmy Sixx stories coming on! Of course, I’ve never actually penned a mystery before. . .and I don’t have a real plot. . .and I know nothing about LA, Chinatown or Malibu. Good grief. This will take some doing. I’ll file it in my Book Blurb binder with my other BBF starters and see what happens.
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Regarding my big, fat lie from Wednesday’s post — read on!
1. True! Back in the early ’80s Fremont Street was a viable road, blocked to traffic on New Year’s Eve, effectively creating a huge block party of casinos. Most of the crowd collected in front of the Union Plaza for midnight. Inspiration struck me (probably in the form of too many spirits, and I don’t mean the ghost of Uncle Ned) to do the bunny hop in the hotel’s front drive. The crowd determined my idea to be brilliant, and I gained somewhere between 50 and 100 hoppers by the time we stopped to yell “Happy New Year!” And my kids think I’m so boring. Ha!
2. True! A nerd even then, I was probably the only 18-year-old alive who loved Wayne Newton. His Vegas show rocked. My very cool Uncle Bruce knew someone (who knew someone) and landed me a private tour of the Newton estate. The Arabians were gorgeous, but what I remember most is the pack of dogs that ran the property. They were friendly house pets, and in spite of their number there wasn’t one pile of poo anywhere. We speculated that someone on the estate spent most of his day following behind the pack with a pooper-scooper. The property spanned acres. I hope the poor guy rode a golf cart.
3. My Big Fat Lie! I have been to New York, but never to MTV studios. Worse, no photo with Jon Bon Jovi. If I had to lie, why not incorporate cutie-pie Jon? Technically, that makes it a fantasy rather than a lie, right? So I don’t have to feel guilty for fibbing. Hey — Livin’ on a Prayer, baby!
4. True! I type like the wind. Whoosh! Did you see that? That was me typing!
5. True! Although I am deficient regarding all things techie, a writer I have always been. The company was tiny—just the owner/president/programming guru and little ‘ol me—and the proprietary software was user friendly. The menu system my boss developed was cutting edge for its time. Fortunately for me, he handled all the techie stuff. I managed all things writing and customer service. The promotion to VP was a nice, but empty gesture, mostly intended to allow me the muscle to sign legal documents in the owner’s absence. I never even referenced the title on my resume.
Now you know the truth! Did anything surprise you? Thanks again, Sioux, for including me in this fun award.
Have a Nice Day!