Posted on January 30, 2015
Good girls, it is commonly believed, are obsessed with bad boys. Usually, they get burned. Rarely do they get revenge…
Ben Cromwell—handsome, sexy and ruthless—keeps a stable of women; picks them up the way someone picks up a ripe peach, consumes it in a few bites and throws away the pit. This time, he chose the wrong peaches.
When Detective Sam Lagarde of the West Virginia State Police is called to the scene of a homicide in Charles Town, he instantly surmises the force he is facing is far beyond what he’s dealt with before. A head in a dumpster and a pinky finger with an emerald and diamond ring attached are all he has to go by.
Doggedly following lead after lead, Lagarde stumbles upon five women who all have one thing in common…
Folly, a Sam Lagarde mystery/thriller set in Charles Town, West Virginia, is Ginny Fite’s first novel. She has two other manuscripts ready for acquisition and is currently writing another Sam Lagarde mystery.
My husband used to say to me, “Honey, you’ve got quite an imagination.” It was a deflection. If I imagined something happened, it couldn’t possibly be true.
What I’ve discovered by writing fiction is that nothing I can imagine isn’t true. Truth, as the saying goes, is stranger than fiction. No matter how far-fetched a plot contrivance seems, no matter how evil the character who seems to be seeping out of the keys on my computer, no matter how beautiful the sunset I have tried to paint into words on a page, somewhere it has happened; it is real.
After I started writing about Ben Cromwell, the murder victim in Folly, I came across a photograph of a man in the news whose beautiful face and cold eyes stared back at me across the ether. He radiated heat and danger. He was a real man in a state far from the setting of my psychological thriller and he treated women exactly the way Cromwell does in the novel. In real life, that man may, or may not, get his comeuppance. In my novel, he does.
And that is the glorious difference between fiction and reality. In fiction sometimes I have the upper hand.