Afterword

I n 1943, my mother, Saranna “Sandie” Lee Carpenter, was fortunate to be adopted by Paul and Irene Carpenter. Sandie’s father was a cousin of the famous, long-gone Harlean Carpenter, otherwise known as Jean Harlow. Growing up, I heard bits and pieces about the Hollywood star, but it was never made a big deal over. My grandmother Irene often said the best thing about Jean Harlow was that she was a friend of Clark Gable. Also, my grandmother didn’t think much of Jean and the fact that she wore no underwear. Irene was a woman who believed in layers of proper undergarments.

Fast forward to 2015. I’d written a blog post about being related to Harlow, and a German game show contacted me to be on their show. Contestants ask questions about your famous relative and try to guess who it is. It was a free trip to Germany, so of course I took it. My personality being what it is, I researched Harlow. I wanted to be well-prepared, and I knew nothing about my famous relative except the rumor of her death, which claims her mother didn’t seek medical help for Jean as she lay dying. Absolutely false.

This incident was what prompted me to think about Jean Harlow, and, of course, she crept into my writing. And because I’m mainly a mystery writer, I wanted to write a mystery. I toyed with the idea of a historical mystery, but I wanted a contemporary take on her life, from the eyes of a character who on the face of things is the opposite of Jean Harlow. Enter Charlotte Donovan, dogged researcher and wannabe writer, struggling with Lyme disease, money, and men issues, whose life is turned inside out when her boss dies. She’s not one of those superhero kickass sleuths or PIs. Her superhero power is her mind. She’s a modern woman with modern struggles and, when pressed, finds she’s stronger than she imagined. I like to think most of us are.

The book is set in New York City, but all of the establishments, apartment buildings, clubs, and even Cloister Island are fictional. Of course, all of the biographical information about Harlow is accurate. But the narrative about her ring is fiction, along with her sending it to a secret baby in France. Jean did own a huge star sapphire ring, which was given to her by William Powell, but it has never been found. From my research, I learned that Harlow is one of the most mysterious and misunderstood Golden Age actresses. A great deal of misinformation has been passed off as biographical. I hope I’ve set some of those rumors to rest, even though this book is a work of fiction.

If you’re interested in reading more about Jean Harlow, a couple of the best well-researched books are Bombshell: The Life and Death of Jean Harlow by David Stenn and Harlow in Hollywood: the Blonde Bombshell in the Glamour Capitol, 1928–1937 by Darrell Rooney and Mark Vieira. There are countless Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram feeds about her, some actually using her name as if Jean Harlow herself is Tweeting. I also found a podcast chock-full of fascinating information called “You Must Remember This.” It’s a must-listen to if you’re into old Hollywood.

Other historical notes about the story include the film clip where Jean stood up nude during a break in shooting a movie. That is true. Whatever happened to the clip is anybody’s guess. Also, as strange as the incident with her second husband is, it is also true. If you’d like to read a good book about it, check out Deadly Illusions: Jean Harlow and the Murder of Paul Bern by Samuel Marx.

Getting to know my great aunt once removed has been an honor and a pleasure for me, and I hope you feel the same way.