Wish You Were Here – Book Excerpt

Happy Friday, friend! Welcome to an interview with author J. Lynn Carr about her book, Wish You Were Here. This is a murder mystery urban fantasy that I am excited to make time for it. Let’s welcome Jessi and learn about the book.

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Get to know the author: J. Lynn Carr

Hi Jessi! Welcome to Armed with A Book. Tell me and my readers a bit about yourself!

Hello! I am a newly published author, although I have been writing for many years. My favorite genres are fantasy and mystery, but I am also interested in exploring how mythical creatures would lead a normal, mundane life. Before writing, my main creative outlet was painting, and I still consider it a significant part of my life. Currently, I work for a public library, and previously, I worked for several independent bookstores. I reside in Austin, TX, with my husband and our two dogs, Milly and Freddie.

What inspired you to write this book?

I have always felt divided when it comes to my reading preferences. On one hand, I am a die-hard mystery fan, while on the other hand, I am drawn towards magic and fantasy. I have always wanted to write a book that could incorporate both genres without compromising one over another. My primary goal was to strike a perfect balance between the investigative aspects of the plot with the magic system and world-building.

How long did it take you to write this book, from the first idea to the last edit?

Two years ago, I started writing a novel but abandoned the draft very early on as the plot I had constructed just didn’t seem interesting enough. About a year ago, I picked it back up and rewrote almost the entire thing, except for the main character. However, a few months into this new iteration, I realized that it still wasn’t working. So, I started a third draft and reworked some character backstories and made a few adjustments, which is when it truly started to become a novel. I made my final edit about a week before the publication date in October.

What makes your story unique?

The story I have created is a balance of fantasy and mystery elements, woven together seamlessly. The cast of characters is rich, diverse, and unique in their own ways, each with their own quirks and personalities. In fact, when I started writing, I had no idea that the side characters would steal my heart as much as the main character, Harvest, did. As I progressed, I realized that they deserved more space in the story, and I decided to flesh out their personalities and roles accordingly. 

Who would enjoy reading your book? 

I think folks who love a good mystery will really enjoy the investigative process I’ve presented. I’ve put a lot of thought into how an investigation would play out in a world filled with magic. And for those who love a diverse range of magical creatures, they’ll be pleased to know that I’ve included not only witches, but also vampires, werewolves, shifters, and fae.

Did you bring any of your experiences into this book?

I grew up in Florida and Valkaria Bay, the town where Harvest lives, is based on the small beachside towns of my childhood. I also drew inspiration from various female friendships I’ve had in my adult life to create the characters of Harvest and her sister Hazel. These friendships have sometimes faded over time but always resurge at some point, remaining just as strong as when they first formed.

What’s something you hope readers would take away from it?

At the end of the day, my intention is not to convey any deep or life-changing message through my writing. I write because it’s fun to tell stories. My hope is that readers will find my stories entertaining and amusing, and appreciate the sense of camaraderie among the characters.

Do you have a favourite quote or scene in the book that you find yourself going back to?

Writing the Valkyrie Psychic Emporium scene was one of the most enjoyable parts for me. The characters in this scene were originally from my first short story, “Room 349.” They were not intended to appear in Wish You Were Here, but when I added them, everything fell into place.

What is something you have learned on your author journey so far?

I’ve learned that patience is one of the most important things on my journey as an author. I’m the type of person who gets really excited about sharing things that I’ve created, but I’ve come to realize that waiting until a story has gone through all the phases of editing before publishing is the best way to ensure the final product is amazing.

What’s the best piece of advice you have received related to writing?

One of the simplest pieces of advice for writers is to just start writing. As someone who has been writing for years, I realized that I had very little to show for my efforts because I would give up as soon as things got difficult. I was so focused on making everything perfect that I forgot the most important thing: writing is an imperfect process. Once I began to embrace the messiness of writing, I actually started having fun with it.

If you could give a shout out to someone(s) who has helped in your writer journey, please feel free to mention them below!

I would like to give a shout-out to all those who have supported me by purchasing my book, sharing my work on social media, or simply listening to me talk about writing. A special shout-out is owed to everyone who has endured my rants on the challenges of self-publishing!

Where can readers find you on the Internet?

Instagram, Goodreads, Threads.

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Book Excerpt from
Wish You Were Here

The address Aunt Bea gave them is on the outskirts of downtown, where high rises give way to refurbished brick warehouses and blocks of bungalows-turned-storefronts. Harvest isn’t sure what to expect—they have nothing but an address and a name—but what they find is still somewhat of a surprise. Sandwiched between a seemingly defunct jazz club and a donut shop is a hand painted sign proclaiming their destination to be that of a psychic.

The air smells like exhaust and batter in hot oil. Harvest stares up at the sign with three layers of paint, specters of businesses past. She looks down at the note and then back up at the storefront.

Quinn stands next to her, shielding his eyes from the sun with a frown as he looks up at the sign. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just that these are almost always a scam. Why would Aunt Bea send us here?”

“Unless it’s not a scam.” He looks over her shoulder at the note again. “And Frank is a real psychic.”

“Maybe.” She moves closer to look at the window display.

It’s dusty and dim inside. A tarot deck is splayed on a velvet tray next to a precariously stacked selection of occult titles that are almost certainly fake. Jethro’s Directory of Demons. Passport Handbook for Death. Understanding the Five Love Languages of Ghosts. There is a sign pasted against the glass: Get 20% off a tarot reading with every exorcism! The fine print says Ghosts or poltergeists only! Does not apply to demonic possessions.

She swallows, nausea rising behind her sternum and reminding her why she is here. When Quinn pushes open the door, a small bell jingles, and Harvest looks up, noticing the satchel of salt above them. She spots a symbol—a circle bisected with a line—carved into the door frame, too.

Perhaps Aunt Bea is right.

But the person who greets them isn’t Frank, and there is something about the woman behind the counter that makes Harvest feel cold and slightly worried, as if there is a half-remembered task at the back of her thoughts.

“Welcome to Valkyrie Psychic Emporium!” She greets them with a smile. “My name is Penelope. How can I help you?” Penelope’s silk dress looks out of place in the small, dim store and would be far more appropriate at a dance club or a date night. There is a splash of something across the front, a stain from a dropped drink.

“Hello. We were looking for Frank,” says Harvest, making her way toward the sales counter on the far side of the room, Quinn trailing after her. 

The floors creak comfortingly as they pass by a large circular table overflowing with occult accoutrements. Bowls of dried herbs and crystals. Baskets of candles and incense in various colors and sizes. Copper spoons displayed inside tiny pewter cauldrons. Harvest absentmindedly lets her fingers trail against a chunk of amethyst. 

Books line the walls, though a few of the titles look leather-bound and far older than Harvest would expect. In all, the room is a contrast of new and old, surprisingly normal, and yet there is a sense of heaviness to the objects, as if they hold mischief in their spines and cores.

“Frank is in a meeting.” Penelope purses her lips, head tilted to the side. “Perhaps it is something I can help you with?”

“Maybe,” she says, handing the piece of paper to Penelope. “My aunt gave me this.”

Penelope nods smugly, reading the prescription from Dr. Rosenbloom. “I thought I heard some chains rattling. As a resident of the Afterlife myself, I have quite the ear for such things. Got yourself haunted, didn’t you?”

Yes, that’s what’s off about her, Harvest realizes. Penelope’s slip dress with spaghetti straps is out-of-date. Her long hair is pulled back into a bun with a few spiky strands sticking out, and her strappy heels, coupled with a choker necklace, are reminiscent of a decade long since past. 

Penelope’s skin is so pale, it is almost translucent. She seems half-here, touching and interacting with the world, and yet removed in an odd way, like a letter in a word just slightly out of order. 

“Is that something Frank can help with?” asks Harvest.

Penelope nods again, adding a carefree wave of her perfectly manicured hand. “Oh, yeah, Frank handles cases like this almost daily. Follow me.”

They do as told, and Penelope leads them around the sales counter and through a heavy red curtain. When the curtain falls back into place, they find themselves enveloped in a dense silence. The air is warm despite the darkness, a shimmer of mischief meant to keep people out—or to keep something in.

The hallway they are greeted with is far longer than it should be, considering the size of the building. It twists and turns and winds back into itself, forever leading them downward. At first, the walls are a simple white, then they are covered in damask wallpaper and tapestries. Penelope pauses at one of the tapestries and reaches out to touch the woven visage of a young man, with dark curly hair and pouting lips, staring out at the view like a subject in a Baroque painting.

She sighs sadly and moves on.

Soon, the walls are smooth wood, connecting seamlessly to the floor. A thick pile rug hides their footsteps. Harvest wonders if this is fae magic, but when she lets her fingers trail against the wood grain of the walls, the spark she feels is colder than she would expect.

“It’s a pocket,” says Penelope when Harvest’s comments on the coldness. “Not quite Death, not quite Life. Something in between.”

“Kind of like you,” Harvest teases, bumping Quinn’s elbow with her own.

He shrugs, as if to say You’re not wrong.  

They pass several doors with various styles of entryways—simple wooden slats, intricate stained glass, rusty metal—until they come to a pebbled glass doorway with gold lettering.

Souls Town Investigative Services

Frankie Hart, Detective

Penelope Church, Detective Assistant

Penelope knocks, two short raps of her knuckles, and then pokes her head inside. “Got a haunting for you, Frank.”

There is a muffled conversation, and then Penelope opens the door wider to let Frank’s previous client through. Quinn and Harvest step to the side to allow the eight-foot troll to duck out of the room.

Penelope greets him with a hand on his arm and a concerned smile. “Hey, Oscar. Cat missing again? Let’s get you some tea.” Penelope escorts Oscar down the hall, waving goodbye to Harvest and Quinn.

Frank, it turns out, is not the middle-aged, paunchy man that Harvest had been imagining. Frank is actually a young girl, a little younger than Penelope, with large round glasses and a short brown bob. She’s wearing an oversize army green jacket, patched and raggedy.

“Got a reference?” she asks gruffly. She’s sitting behind a large desk squeezed into a room that is much too small for it.

Harvest enters the office to hand her the piece of paper from her aunt. Frank inspects it carefully, holding it up to the bare light bulb hanging in the middle of the room, as if looking for an invisible watermark. “You’re Bea’s…?”

“Niece,” supplies Harvest.

Frank nods approvingly. “Well, I owe Bea a favor. Tell her this makes us even.”

Frank stuffs the paper in the inside pocket of her jacket and then motions for them to sit down. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

Frank takes notes as Harvest explains what brought her here, nodding and humming. At the end, Frank leans back with a knowing smile, agreeing that Aunt Bea had the right idea. “Yes, I can definitely help with that.”

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Interested?

Find Wish You Were Here on Goodreads, IndieStoryGeek, Amazon .  Thanks for taking the time to join us for this interview!

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