It’s done. The fourth Frank Nagler Mystery, called “The Red Hand.”
It’s done as much as it can be before going through an editing process and revisions, and all the stuff that follows the suspected completion of a book.
Before I describe the book, I would like to note the real life loss of one of the popular settings in the stories, Barry’s, a restaurant in Dover, N.J.
The real Barry’s was one of numerous businesses destroyed in a terrible fire this week. The fire, apparently fueled by natural gas, destroyed a block of businesses and apartments in Dover’s historic downtown.
It’s a terrible loss, homes, jobs and futures. Agencies are working hard to help those who suffered these losses.
Barry’s was the kind of place that every downtown needs, fast, loud, filled with stories. As a newspaper reporter working in Dover for eight years, it was a place for…
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Insights into Detective Frank Nagler’s relationship with his wife Martha.
“Do you remember the first time we came here?” Martha asked as she picked another rose, this one freshly petaled, and inhaled its soft scent. Then she offered it to him, and he buried his nose in the flower before kissing her hand.
“It was seventh grade, after you played Juliet, opposite, what was his name?”
“Bennie Garza,” she smiled. “Bennie, Bennie, where for art thou, Bennie? He was always trying to tongue me when we kissed. But I had braces, and he’d jam his tongue against them. I almost laughed in the death scene.”
She threw an arm across her breasts. “I pointed at you in the front row when I said, ‘Where for art thou, Romeo.’”
“I remember. I felt there wasn’t anyone else in that auditorium but you and me.”
He leaned over to kiss her, but stopped and pulled down her lower lip. “Nope. No braces.”
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“Outside, a steady rain washed away all other sounds; just the splash of water on asphalt and cement, tapping on roof tops and drumming metal car roofs; a perfect wall behind which to hide.
We walk through this wreckage, seeking what does not exist: wholeness. This is the weight of what we are, he thought. The weight of living.
A few cabs and delivery trucks splashed through the streets left damaged by winter’s wrath. Walking again. I wish I could walk this all away. What did Del say the other day: You see how deep the poison goes, how strong is the wrong in what they doin’.”
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We couldn’t be happier for Mike Daigle or Frank Nagler….we love this series as much as everyone else does.
The third Frank Nagler Mystery, “The Weight of Living,” has been named a Notable 100 Book in the 2018 Shelf Unbound Indie Book Awards.
Thanks to Shelf Unbound, and to the Imzadi Publishing gang, Janice Grove and Anita-Dugan Moore.
Anita’s cover for “Weight” was presented a Gold Medal by authorsdb.com, an author/readers database site.
Also, a shout out to Kathleen Tate, Imzadi’s copy editor, who was so concerned about the abrupt ending of the story, when she sent back the proof, asked if I had sent her the complete manuscript.
It’s been quite an interesting few months for “The Weight of Living.”
It was also awarded FIRST PLACE for Mysteries in the 2017 Royal Dragonfly Book Content.
Both Shelf Unbound and Royal Dragonfly are multi-media companies who produce monthly magazines sent to schools, libraries and similar outlets. They also generate reading material for use in schools, and each are deeply…
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Imzadi publishing is pleased to announce that Michael Stephen Daigle’s, “The Swamps of Jersey” is now available in audiobook.
Download your copy today and listen as veteran voice actor Lee Alan brings life to Detective Frank Nagler and the rest of the crew in Ironton, NJ as Frank tries to discover the identity of the decapitated and dismembered body in the bog.
Listen to a preview now!
Some seasonal words from one of our award winning Imzadi Publishing authors, Michael Stephen Daigle.
The rain-smeared lights dripped along the dark glass, the reds and greens, blues and yellows running, Annie thought, like angels’ tears; beyond, in the street a few cars huffed at the stop light and then burst away, swallowed by the darkness.
Annie shook her head and shifted the small Christmas tree to the center of the window display and settled the wrapped boxes at the base. Tomorrow the shelter families would come for their annual party.
It always broke her heart to see the little ones. They would smile when they pulled off the wrapping to find a small bear or doll, a little train set, but the sadness would never really leave their eyes, she knew.
They would stroke the arms of their new coat, wiggle their fingers in new gloves and hold out their legs stiffly to admire a new pair of boots.
But Annie knew they would…
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Her name was Sandy and she was the only other person in the room.
This was the Mountainside Public Library on Saturday where the kind folks who run the library has scheduled a reading for me.
They had placed a large poster in the doorway announcing my visit, and displayed copies of the two Frank Nagler mysteries they had in their collection, “The Swamps of Jersey,” and “A Game Called Dead.”
Thanks to the librarians for accepting a copy of the third Frank Nagler book, “The Weight of Living.”
It is hard to predict to who shows up at such readings for little known authors. I have been at some when friends and family of a local author flood the room. I have been at others when curious readers arrive, and at others when no one arrives.
But on Saturday it was Sandy.
And what privilege it was.
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