Interview with Wayne Zurl, author of From New York To The Smokies


  
Wayne Zurl grew up on Long Island and retired after twenty years with the Suffolk County Police Department, one of the largest municipal law enforcement agencies in New York and the nation. For thirteen of those years he served as a section commander supervising investigators. He is a graduate of SUNY, Empire State College and served on active duty in the US Army during the Vietnam War and later in the reserves. Zurl left New York to live in the foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains of Tennessee with his wife, Barbara. 

Twenty (20) of his Sam Jenkins mysteries have been published as eBooks and many produced as audio books. Zurl has won Eric Hoffer and Indie Book Awards, and was named a finalist for a Montaigne Medal and First Horizon Book Award.

His full-length novels are: A NEW PROSPECT, A LEPRECHAUN’S LAMENT, HEROES & LOVERS, and PIGEON RIVER BLUES. 

The all new FROM NEW YORK TO THE SMOKIES, an anthology of five Sam Jenkins mysteries is available in print and eBook, published by Melange Books, LLC. 

For more information on Wayne’s Sam Jenkins mystery series see www.waynezurlbooks.net. You may read excerpts, reviews and endorsements, interviews, coming events, and see photos of the area where the stories take place.   

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About The Anthology Collection



Title: From New York To The Smokies 
Author: Wayne Zurl 
Series: 5 Book Anthology Collection from the Sam Jenkins Mystery Series 
Publisher: Melange Books, LLC 
Publication Date: April 16, 2015 
Format: Paperback - 163 pages / eBook  / PDF 
ISBN: 978-1680460780 
Genre: Mystery / Police Procedural   


Buy The Anthology Collection:

Book Description: 

Author Wayne Zurl is back with his popular Sam Jenkins Mysteries Series. From New York To The Smokies is a 5 book anthology collection from the Sam Jenkins Mysteries Series!    


THE BOAT TO PRISON 

Seventeen-year-old Sam Jenkins is busy fishing and falling in love with a girl named Kate. But with a father involved with the union and a divorced mother, Sam often finds himself acting like the adult of the family. During a fishing trip off Long Island, Sam overhears a conversation involving dangerous plans that can land his dad in jail. To keep his father out of prison, Sam teams up with detectives from the county’s rackets bureau and enlists the help of two friends to pull off an operation far beyond their usual high school curriculum.   

FAVORS 

Police community Service Aide Liz Lopez should be in fine spirits—she’s in line for a promotion to police officer and a raise. But her sullen demeanor tells her boss, Lieutenant Sam Jenkins, that Liz is anything but happy. Jenkins begins an unofficial investigation to find out what’s going on. The detective learns of a bizarre home life and a dark secret Liz keeps under wraps. FAVORS is a story of how the police take care of their own—in an honest and compassionate way.   

ANGEL OF THE LORD 

A killer is on the loose in Prospect, Tennessee. He strikes repeatedly, each time leaving a cryptic message for the police to find. By the time a fifth body turns up, Police Chief Sam Jenkins is under pressure—either solve the murders or bring in outside help. But the chief’s ego won’t allow others to work his cases. And at the eleventh hour he tracks down a prime suspect, but death is only seconds away for the next victim.   

MASSACRE AT BIG BEAR CREEK 

A misunderstanding between hunters rapidly escalates into a battle not seen in Southern Appalachia since the Hatfield and McCoy feud. As bodies pile up faster than evidence, Sam Jenkins and the officers of Prospect PD scour the remote hills and valleys of East Tennessee and North Carolina to solve a case that reads more like an old west adventure than a modern police drama.   

ODE TO WILLIE JOE 

Prospect, Tennessee Police Chief Sam Jenkins receives two reports of UFO sightings in three days. The gritty ex-New York detective doesn’t believe in coincidence…or space aliens, but he can’t find anything to explain a glowing spaceship and little green men—until he sends Sergeant Stan Rose and Officer Junior Huskey to Campbell’s Woods. They call in a startling discovery, and the investigation begins.


  
    


Book Excerpt:

     From ANGEL OF THE LORD

The rain never stopped. From early June through late August, it poured or drizzled almost every day. I thought if I stood still too long I might begin to mold. It reminded me of the monsoons in Southeast Asia.
Drops of rain falling from the brim of my cap were exceeded only by the young woman’s tears.
“When did you see the boy last?” I asked.
“Right after breakfast. He went into the living room to watch TV, and I started doing laundry in the basement.”
“And when you came upstairs he was gone?”
More tears rolled over her cheeks as she stood there, wringing her hands. “Yes.”
“Was your door locked?”
“Lord have mercy, no.”
“Is your son’s rain jacket here?”
She shrugged and cried a little more.
“Let’s look,” I suggested.
We walked to the mud room off the kitchen. A small hooded jacket hung on one of the five pegs over an antique wooden chair not six feet from the back door. A small pair of bright blue rubber Wellingtons sat on the floor.
“You call for him outside?”
“Of course. I ran all around.”
Without the puffy eyes and fear scarring her face, Emily Suttles would have been an attractive brunette.
“And then you called 9-1-1?”
“Yes.”
“What was he watching?”
“I don’t know. He knows how to work the TV.”
“You turn it off?”
“One of the policemen did.”
“Let’s take a look.”
She stared at me as if I had two heads. “Why?”
“Indulge me.”
Back in the living room, Emily picked up the remote control and turned on a flat screen about the size of a stretch van. The American Movie Classics channel came on playing a scene from Halloween 4.
“Did you or the cops look through the house?” I asked.
“Yes, of course.”
“All over?”
“Every room.”
“Slowly or quick?”
“Quick. I was frantic.”
“Let’s try again. Where’s Elijah’s room?”
“Upstairs.” Emily began to look impatient. “I know he’s not there.”
We walked upstairs anyway. I looked under the bed. Nothing. The boy’s mother called his name. More nothing. I opened the closet. Huddled in the left corner, leaning against the wall, four-year-old Elijah Suttles slept peacefully, a small flashlight in his right hand. I shook his knee.
“Hey, partner, you doing okay in here?”
He opened his eyes, blinked rapidly, and looked frightened.
“Take it easy, son. I’m a policeman. Your mom couldn’t find you and asked for some help.”
“Jesus have mercy, Elijah,” his mother said, “you ‘bout scared me half ta death. You come out here right now, young man.”
“Go slow, Mrs. Suttles. He probably had a good reason to hide in here. Didn’t you, son?”
The little boy nodded, but still looked scared.
“Something happen on the TV?”
Another nod.
“Ready to come out now?”
The boy stuck out a hand, and I pulled. Once on his feet, he scrambled to his mother and locked onto her leg, mumbling an apology.
“Some of these slasher movies scare me, too,” I said. “He just ran from the killer on the screen. Wasn’t a bad idea.”
Emily Suttles hugged her son, looked at me, and said, “Thank you.”
“I’ll call the three officers and let them know your son’s safe.”

I switched on the ignition in my unmarked Crown Victoria and keyed the microphone. “Prospect-one to headquarters and all units. The missing child has been found. Resume patrol. Five-twelve, close out the call at 1015 hours.”
PO Johnny Rutledge acknowledged. “10-4, Prospect-one.”
“Five-oh-nine, I copy that,” Billy Puckett said.
After a long moment of silence, Sergeant Bettye Lambert, our desk officer, broke in. “Unit 513, five-one-three, do you copy?”
No answer.
“Anyone know 513’s 10-35?” I asked.
“Joey was goin’ house ta house, east end o’ the street,” Puckett said.
“I’m probably the closest,” I said. “I’ll check.”
Just as I shifted into reverse, PO Joey Gillespie spoke on the radio.
“513 ta Prospect-one. Boss, ya gonna need ta see this. 1175 Benny Stillwell Road, obvious 10-5.”
10-5 is our brevity code for a homicide.
* * * *
Two men lay face down on the kitchen floor. One with a shaved head made it easy to see the small caliber bullet hole at the base of his skull—a .25 perhaps or more likely a .22. Blood trickled from the wound down past his right ear, over a thick neck, and onto the Mexican tile floor. The other victim’s blood oozed to his left. Funny, the little details you notice at the scene of a murder.
“You call crime scene and the ME?” I asked.
“Yessir, had Miss Bettye do it right after I called ya.”
I nodded and looked around the kitchen of a relatively new and expensive home. “Big house.”
Joey Gillespie nodded.
“At least 4,000 square feet,” I guessed. “And quality. These guys had bucks.”
He nodded again and looked a little queasy.
“The air hasn’t come on recently. In this humidity blood tends to stink quicker. Smell bother you?”
“Yessir, I ain’t used ta this.”
“Nobody gets used to it, kid. You just learn to ignore it.”
“I guess.”
“You search the rest of the house?”
“Jest looked on the first floor ta see if there was anybody here.”
“Basement?”
“Nosir. On a slab.”
“Let’s go upstairs.”
I drew my old Smith & Wesson from the holster on my right hip, and Joey pulled out his .40 caliber Glock.
“Look around, and pay attention. Don’t watch me. There’s probably no one here, but we’ll do this by the numbers.”
“Yessir. I’m right behind ya.”
We made a quick sweep of the first floor, opening all the closets before ascending the stairs. The landing above left us in a hallway with what looked like four bedrooms, two baths and two closet doors. We found nothing in the guest johns or closets. A lack of personal property in three of the bedrooms led me to believe they were set also aside for guests. We looked further in the master suite and discovered two closets holding clothing for two different people.
“I guess the two guys slept t’gether,” Joey said.
“Yep.”
“Strange, huh?”
“Not strange, just a minority.”
“Uh-huh.”
Two car doors slammed out front.
“Let’s see who’s here,” I suggested.
Jackie Shuman and David Sparks, crime scene investigators from the Blount County Sheriff’s Office, had arrived and stood in the foyer holding cameras and forensic kits. Moments later, Deputy Medical Examiner Morris Rappaport and his assistant Earl Ogle pulled up in the morgue wagon.

“How’d ya find these two?” Jackie asked of no one in particular.
“I’s checkin’ the neighborhood for a missin’ child,” Joey said. “Got no answer here, but there was two cars in the driveway and the garage was closed. Figgered someone’s home, so I walked ‘round back and seen them layin’ here on the floor.”
“Nice wheels out there,” David said.
“Audi S7 and an F-Type Jag,” I said. “Pushing a hundred grand apiece.”
“And they’re relatively new, right?” Morris asked.
“The Jag’s new, and the Audi’s not far behind.”
“With these two sporty drivers, why do you suppose there’s an oil spot on the concrete driveway?”
“Good question, Mo,” I said. “Something for our ace evidence technicians to explore.”
“We’ll git’er done,” Jackie said.
“And take pictures of this table top. Someone ruined a nice antique.”
Jackie looked closer at the numbers someone crudely scratched into the mellow wood finish.
“Thirteen thirteen,” he said. “Wonder what that means?”
“Two unlucky numbers,” Morris said.
“Two unlucky guys,” I said. “Has to mean something. Finding out will keep me from playing in the traffic.”


 
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Author Interview


Can you tell us what your book is about? 

My editor helped me trim the summaries down to provide a glimpse of each story in the fewest possible words. I think these official blurbs will answer that best. 

Five mysteries spanning more than four decades in the life of career police officer Sam Jenkins. 

THE BOAT TO PRISON 

Seventeen-year-old Sam Jenkins is busy fishing and falling in love with a girl named Kate. But with a father involved with the union and a divorced mother, Sam often finds himself acting like the adult of the family. During a fishing trip off Long Island, Sam overhears a conversation involving dangerous plans that can land his dad in jail. 

To keep his father out of prison, Sam teams up with detectives from the county’s rackets bureau and enlists the help of two friends to pull off an operation far beyond their usual high school curriculum. 

FAVORS 

Police community Service Aide Liz Lopez should be in fine spirits—she’s in line for a promotion to police officer and a raise. But her sullen demeanor tells her boss, Lieutenant Sam Jenkins, that Liz is anything but happy. 

Jenkins begins an unofficial investigation to find out what’s going on. The detective learns of a bizarre home life and a dark secret Liz keeps under wraps. 

FAVORS is a story of how the police take care of their own—in an honest and compassionate way. 

ANGEL OF THE LORD 

A killer is on the loose in Prospect, Tennessee. He strikes repeatedly, each time leaving a cryptic message for the police to find. By the time a fifth body turns up, Police Chief Sam Jenkins is under pressure—either solve the murders or bring in outside help. 

But the chief’s ego won’t allow others to work his cases. And at the eleventh hour he tracks down a prime suspect, but death is only seconds away for the next victim. 

MASSACRE AT BIG BEAR CREEK 

A misunderstanding between hunters rapidly escalates into a battle not seen in Southern Appalachia since the Hatfield and McCoy feud. 

As bodies pile up faster than evidence, Sam Jenkins and the officers of Prospect PD scour the remote hills and valleys of East Tennessee and North Carolina to solve a case that reads more like an old west adventure than a modern police drama. 

ODE TO WILLIE JOE 

Prospect, Tennessee Police Chief Sam Jenkins receives two reports of UFO sightings in three days. The gritty ex-New York detective doesn’t believe in coincidence…or space aliens, but he can’t find anything to explain a glowing spaceship and little green men—until he sends Sergeant Stan Rose and Officer Junior Huskey to Campbell’s Woods. They call in a startling discovery, and the investigation begins. 


Why did you write your book? 

The two New York stories (BOAT TO PRISON and FAVORS) are based on actual incidents. The three which take place in Tennessee are total figments of my imagination. That’s something new I wanted to try. These stories take the Sam Jenkins novelette-length mysteries up to twenty-seven. All the others were based on cases I investigated, supervised or just knew a lot about. I wanted to see if my imagination was as good as my memory. 


Can you tell us a little about your main and supporting characters? 

Before taking on his second career as chief of Prospect PD, Sam Jenkins retired from a large New York police department. He’s a Vietnam War veteran, happily married, egotistical, cynical and sarcastic, a good detective, and according to some reviewers occasionally downright humorous. 

Kate Jenkins has been married to Sam for more than forty years. She does volunteer work while Sam is out playing detective and once a week, she relaxes with friends and plays mah-jongg. According to Sam, she’s beautiful and looks at least ten years younger than she actually is. 

Sergeant Bettye Lambert is the department’s desk officer and administrator and Sam’s occasional partner on the road. Without Bettye, Sam wouldn’t be able to wander all over the Smoky Mountains pursuing criminals. She’s invaluable in running the department. 

Sergeant Stanley Rose spent several years with LAPD before following his homesick wife back to her roots in east Tennessee. Stan is the night time road supervisor and occasionally a stabilizing element in Sam’s often rambunctious professional life. 


Do you tend to base your characters on real people or are they totally from your imagination? 

Everyone is based on someone I knew—or they‘re a composite of two or more people. That helps me produce dialogue with different voices and unique deliveries. 


Are you consciously aware of the plot before you begin a novel or do you discover it as you write? 

I don’t outline. That’s too much like work. I begin with a basic idea from reality and know it has to get embellished and fictionalized. There are certain elements that make fiction more interesting than true crime, little things that may not have been present in the actual incident. This is my chance to add the spice and some local color. Occasionally I get eighty percent through a story or book and still don’t know how I want to wrap things up. So far I’ve been lucky getting last minute infusions of inspiration…except in one story where there was no resolution—no satisfying ending for the good guys. But that’s what real police work is sometimes about. 


Does the setting play a major part in the development of your story? 

The Great Smoky Mountains provide a unique and beautiful setting. The people here are quite different to those in the metro New York area where Sam spent most of his adult life. The reader can experience the same culture shock that our ultimate fish-out-of-water protagonist does. They can envision the tall, hazy blue ridges visible from almost anywhere in Prospect and listen to how the mountain folk speak. 

In his Philip Marlowe stories and books, Raymond Chandler afforded Los Angeles character status. Tony Hillerman did the same for the Navajo lands of New Mexico and northern Arizona, as does James Lee Burke with south Louisiana. I wanted to give the Smokies its own character status. 


Have you suffered from writer’s block and what do you do to get back on track? 

Occasionally I’m at a loss finding a clever way to transplant New York stories into the hills of east Tennessee. Other times I just lack ambition. When I need a good idea or a brief pep-talk, I’ll grab a better than average bottle of wine, two glasses, and ask my wife for an idea or inspiration. 


What do you like the most about being an author? 

I’m not sure if it’s holding a good finished product in my hand or when I read those flattering reviews. The royalties are quite secondary; being a writer, for me, is like it was being a cop or soldier. The money was nice, but never as important as an accomplishment or the recognition for doing a good job. 


What is the most pivotal point of a writer’s life? 

It’s got to be once you get that first book published and into your possession. Prior to that you were only dabbling with creative writing. Once your book is out there and for sale, you can go out and get business cards printed. 


What kind of advice would you give other fiction authors? 

From writing novelettes destined to be read by an actor and marketed as an audio book, I learned that the most important thing with any prose is that it MUST sound good. The length doesn’t matter. Anything from flash-fiction to an epic has to be pleasing to your ear. When you think you’re finished, sequester yourself and read your story aloud. Do it slowly, as if you were a professional reader being recorded. Make sure everything flows smoothly. The sentences should have the correct number of syllables. The paragraphs must transcend smoothly from one to the next. If you hear a “bump,” go back, rewrite it, and smooth it out, make the story “sing” to you. Then when you’re pleased with your finished product, hand it off to a proofreader, editor, or book doctor…whomever you can afford. A fresh set of eyes is essential to getting a good finished product.        
       




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