To those who, in various times and ways, have taught me writing or encouraged that writing: Guy Bailey, Shelley Baur, John Bensko, David Carson, Jamie Clarke, Teresa Dalle, Rick DeMarinis, Adrienne Devine, Charles Hall, Donald Hays, Al Heinreich, Barry Isaac, David H. Kelley, Jim Kelly, Stephen Malin, Jo McDougall, Kai Nielsen, Rosemary Nixon, Gordon Osing, Gene Plunka, Jim Rendall, Tom Russell, Brett Singer, Bruce Speck, Charles Stagg, Aritha Van Herk, Bill Washburn, Miller Williams.
To manager Kisan Patel and the staff of Panera Bread #4604, Germantown, Tennessee, and Scott Shellhart and the staff of Panera Bread #4602, Memphis, who have fueled this and so much other writing, endured so much of me.
To Kris Clinton, Blue Line Investigations LLC, of Bartlett, Tennessee, and to Marti Miller, private investigator, Memphis.
To the girls: Leah Bailey, Mary Berni, Kristin C, Megan Conti, Trish Fritsche, Liane Limport, Connie McConnaha, Linda M, Janet Pink, Julia Roa, Debbie Smith, Donna Tingley.
To artist-friends Les Linfoot, Angela Hoehn, Glenda Brown, who have taught me much about the connections between paint and words.
To Tony Branson, my fine friend, my own private Idahoan. And Sandy Branson.
To the members of Toastmasters International, and many Toastmasters friends across the world, all of whom help me believe.
To Holly Schmidt—artist, conversationalist, inspiration, friend, and a MENSA man’s dream-date.
To my editorial clients and writing students, who keep my pen sharp. Thank you, especially, to those of my clients—Jim Paavola, Nancy Roe, Bill Townsend, Tonya Zavasta significantly among these—who have the jam to try their hands at fiction, the determination to dedicate themselves to learning craft, and the unseemly nerve to chafe at some of their editor’s suggestions.
To friends, old and new…Craig Cope, Norma Duke, Ingrid Enns, Bill and Leslie Garries, Doug Levis, Gary K. Lowe, Charlotte Stokes, Tim Yip.
Most especially to my beloved wife, Elizabeth Deeley, for love and patience and friendship of a quite extraordinary order.
And, as a cavalier afterthought, to my bitch-goddess and perpetual muse, Peg Oneil, always the faithful fan, friend, encourager, and a disturbingly accurate critical reader. I know you never did like this text, Peg. You never did wear those boots for me, either. And now, you’ll pretty much have to do both.