Tag Archives: Jack McMorrow Mysteries

In London, on the Beach

Greetings friends. Gerry Boyle here after a week away from Maine. I spent a few days in London–South Kensington, Mayfair, even some time in the Old Bailey, that venerable court where so many murderers have met their fate. And every … Continue reading →

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Ayla Reynolds: A Mystery Without End

Hey all. Gerry Boyle here. And I’ve got to say up front that I’d told myself I wasn’t going to write anything more about the Ayla Reynolds case until something happened. I can’t wait that long. Ayla is the toddler … Continue reading →

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A Crimewriter’s Holiday

Gerry Boyle here. And there. I’ve been traveling, visiting family in Ireland, doing some sightseeing in Scotland, and–as they say in these parts–it’s been grand. The other night I was at a house party in Dublin, chatting with some lovely … Continue reading →

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Lovely Weather But Not for a Crime Writer

Hi. Gerry Boyle here. And not to rain on the early-spring-in-Maine parade but does this weather stink or what? I don’t mean just that when it’s sunny and 70 I’d rather be out raking the lawn than sitting in a … Continue reading →

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A Detective by Any Other Name …

Gerry Boyle here, taking a break from looking over lists of names. Names in the phone book.  Names on the spines of the books on my shelves. Names in the index of the homicide-investigation manual on my desk. Names on baby … Continue reading →

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Stuck Here in Chapter Sixteen Again . . .

Kate Flora here, leading off our weekly discussion with a topic not exactly near and dear to our hearts, though definitely familiar: What do you do when you get stuck in a book? I find that I often get bogged … Continue reading →

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The Terror That Is Mystery Writing

Or any other writing, for that matter. Gerry Boyle here, and I don’t mean Stephen King-style terror, that holds readers in its irresistible grip. I mean the terror that’s turned the other way and gets you, the writer, by the … Continue reading →

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On a Lovely Funeral and Other Observations

Hey all. Gerry here, reporting on what I did last weekend. I went to a funeral. I actually enjoyed it. I didn’t expect to but I did. Every minute. This was in a small town in northern Somerset County (redundant, … Continue reading →

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Escape from Ayla Reynolds

Gerry here, and I didn’t expect to be writing this, not now, maybe not ever. I’m talking about the missing toddler Ayla Reynolds, reported missing by her father December 17. But you know that. Everybody knows that, from Matt Lauer … Continue reading →

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A Writer’s Empty Nest

Hi there. Gerry here, talking about some people who are like family. You sit down with them most days, have long chats, ponder their pasts and dwell on their futures. You take pride in their accomplishments, cringe at their blunders, … Continue reading →

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