Sunday Morning with Nike Chillemi

Smell the coffee? maybe it's hot chocolate at your place. we don't discriminate. pull up up a chair and relax. I've got my newest Sunday outfit on, so I'm comfortable. We'll pick up where we left off yesterday. What would you say is the underlying theme of DARKEST HOUR for your readers to carry away from it?

Nike:  The underlying theme of all of my novels is that upright people are the ones who seek to right a wrong. My main characters seek justice. They fight against evil, sometimes at great risk to themselves. Another theme in all my stories is that evil cannot defeat love. I think of my mysteries as having a great love story, rather than a romance. In addition to the blossoming love between the heroine and the hero, I also have love of family and love of friends in my stories.  The various main characters in my stories are all at different places in their relationship with the Lord. Some are mature Christians while others are just beginning to consider a walk with the Lord. They all come to rely deeply on the Lord's love.

Shaunna: For those who've read my book DARK DAYS OF PROMISE, you will see why I love Nike and her novels. I love knowing that no matter how ugly things get, right will prevail. Of course I'm a romantic at heart, but romance isn't enough, there has to be a good story to keep me reading. And family and friends are always important.   Although your novels fall squarely into the classic murder mystery genre and might even be considered cozies, you've often been placed in the Edgy Christian Fiction category. Why is that?

Nike:  Wow. I think I'm going to get to that through the back door. I guess you could say my church experience has been that of attending what might be called the urban relevant church. Many in my congregation wear jeans to church. If you have tattoos or sport a black leather bomber jacket, you'd be welcome. And yet you couldn't find a preacher more respectful of the Lord and the gospel than my pastor. I approach Christian crime fiction from that perspective...relevancy. I write classic murder mysteries that could stand side-by-side with any Perry Mason story. However, the reader will find realism in my murder scenes, in my shoot-outs and fight scenes. A murder scene isn't pretty. It doesn't smell good. When one of my characters is beaten up or shot, I make it gritty...realistic. That's why I was placed in the edgy Christian fiction category. I've been writing seriously for about six years and I think today if you asked readers what I write, they'd simply say, "murder mysteries."

Shaunna: We are so different in our religious beliefs and yet the fundamentals are the same. I know there are readers that can't believe my work is recognized as Christian fiction. Who writes the rules anyway? You don't have to answer that Nike. Before I let the readers enjoy another excerpt, let me thank you (Grace Awards really) for inviting me to be a judge in this year's contest. Since our books are competing against each other…good luck! No, ladies and gentleman, we do not get to judge that genre.

Excerpt from DARKEST HOUR

From Chapter Two

Sanctuary Point, NY

"You can't go any further." The husky, police officer Lucinda had seen on patrol around the village raised his hand to stop her.

"My desk is over there." She felt outside her body, observing herself interacting.

"Sorry," the young man replied. "Nobody except law enforcement personnel's allowed in Dr. McCloud's office or by the secretary's desk."

A camera flashed in the doctor's office and the baby-faced officer she'd seen in the parking lot photographing the doctor's body emerged with his camera. His mother worked in the emergency room, and at any other time, she would have smiled at him in greeting. He strode to her desk and took a shot of the papers and items on top. He used a handkerchief to open the top right drawer where she kept an inkpad and several stamps and a steno book.

"Hey, he's going through my desk. Is he allowed to do that?"

The husky officer nodded. "The hospital's given full permission, but he could anyway."

"I see." She stepped to the side to get a better view of what the one with the camera was doing. What was his name? Robert Classen? Attaching a name to him helped, somehow.

He opened the top drawer of her desk and took another photograph.

She rubbed her arms, feeling strangely violated.

"There's something under this appointment book." The officer took keys out of his pocket and used one to lift the book. "Ian, come here. I found something."

Detective Daltry emerged from Dr. McCloud's office. "What've you got?"

"A bullet... a live round under this appointment book. Looks like a Smith and Wesson thirty-two Long."

The detective pulled a handkerchief from his inside breast pocket and retrieved the bullet. "A common cartridge, but still the make is different from the earlier version of the bullet. Get me an evidence bag."

"A bullet," Lucinda screeched and bolted past the officer.

"Miss, stop. You can't go there," the strapping one shouted after her.

"That is not mine." This was surreal. Her world was spinning out of control.

The detective wrapped the bullet in his hankie and shoved it in his pocket. He deftly stepped in front of her, blocking her path. "Miss Byrne, that's far enough."

"Mrs. Byrne."

"Mrs. Byrne," the detective said, his voice taut. "You must step back. And I will have a few more questions for you." He pivoted. "Officer Vogel, show Mrs. Byrne where to wait?"

"You have to back up. You're not allowed in this area," the stocky one said.

Detective Daltry examined the contents of her desk, while the younger one took photographs, documenting everything. Then the detective approached her and took out his notebook.

"Mrs. Byrne, as you saw, we found a bullet in your top desk drawer. Do you know how it got there?"

"I have no idea. I do not own a gun and have no need for a bullet."

"Does anyone in your household own a gun? Could you have somehow picked up a bullet from a gun kept in your house?"

"My grandfather owns a rifle. It's in a locked cabinet in the master bedroom. I don't know when the cabinet was last opened, but it was a long time ago. I have a young child at home and I don't want easy access to a gun."

"I fully understand, Mrs. Byrne. I have a child as well."

She released a sigh and realized she'd been holding her breath. "Until this moment, I'd forgotten we had that rifle in the house."

"Do you know of anyone who might've placed a bullet in your desk drawer? Maybe someone has it in for you."

"No, I don't know of anyone like that. My desk is out in the open, right in front of Dr. McCloud's and Dr. Hinsey's offices. Anyone who walked by could have access."

The detective nodded and smiled, "Indeed, that's certainly so."

Author Bio:

Like so many writers, Nike Chillemi started writing at a very young age. She still has the Crayola, fully illustrated book she penned (penciled might be more accurate) as a little girl about her then off-the-chart love of horses. Today, you might call her a crime fictionista. Her passion is crime fiction. She likes her bad guys really bad and her good guys smarter and better.

She is the founding board member of the Grace Awards and is its Chairman, a reader's choice awards for excellence in Christian fiction. She writes book reviews for The Christian Pulse online magazine. She was an Inspy Awards 2010 judge in the Suspense/Thriller/Mystery category and a judge in the 2011 and 2012 Carol Awards in the suspense, mystery, and romantic suspense categories. BURNING HEARTS, the first book in the crime wave that is sweeping the south shore of Long Island in The Sanctuary Point series, finaled in the Grace Awards 2011 in the Romance/Historical Romance category. GOODBYE NOEL, the second book in the series released in December, 2011 won the Grace Award 2011 in the Mystery/Romantic Suspense/Thriller category. PERILOUS SHADOWS, third in the series released July, 2012, and DARKEST HOUR, the fourth in the series released in February, 2013.  She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) and the Edgy Christian Fiction Lovers (Ning). http://nikechillemi.wordpress.com/

Weekend with Nike Chillemi

Shaunna:  Before I met Nike via the cyberwaves, I thought her name was a pseudonym. Nike -- wow a fast link to the teenager and their parents alike. We all think of Nike shoes, right? Then there is Chillemi. Do this aloud with me Chill-em-i. in my ear I hear Chillin'me. Thus my conjecture. Imagine my surprise when Nike corrected me with this: 

Nike: Since Chillemi is my true last name and not a pen name, I'm going to change the question a bit.

Shaunna: So here is the slightly revised question:  Tell us about your alter-ego Crime Fictionista. Was that contrived as you knew what genre you wanted to write in?

Nike:  A little known fact is I graduated from the Fashion Institute of Technology in NYC and worked in the bridal industry for many years. I traveled to bridal trade shows in Dallas, Atlanta, Chicago, Las Vegas, and of course in New York.  I became well acquainted with the term "fashionista." When I started writing murder mysteries, I thought how about "crime fictionista." I did a google search and discovered nobody was using it, so I took it for myself.  I have a very talented 15 year-old daughter who is now working on a red-haired, female-detective graphic to go with the moniker. I'll be debuting that graphic in the near future.

Shaunna: Fashion! Okay, does this mean I need to change my clothes for this interview? (I dive into my closet for a quick change to my most recently purchased jeans and button down top.) Et hum… I press the commercial button to keep you busy while I change.

------Commercial-------

Darkest Hour: (Murder Mystery w/Romance, late-1940s)

---a widow is framed by powerful people/the medical examiners knows she didn't pull the trigger

---Sweet romance, warm intimacy, sophisticated themes presented tastefully

A petite widow, secretary and sole support of her son and grandparents, is framed for the murder of her boss. Wealthy village residents conspire with the DA to indicte her and stop further investigation. The medical examiner thinks the shooter was a tall individual and when his report is shoved aside, starts snooping trying to clear her and in the process falls in love with her.

Lucinda Walsh lost her husband and parents at sea. When she discovers the body of her boss, his A-List society finacee, backed up by her powerful family and a corrupt DA, acuses Lucinda of murder.  She struggles on shielding her five-year-old son, her feisty grandfather and arthritic grandmother from the ugliness of her situation. She mistrusts the dapper ME, thinking he's a ladies' man, but soon realizes he may be the only one in her corner.

Hank Jansen, the county ME who's had his share of pain and loss, doesn't know if this little widow was in on the murder, but he knows by the trajectory of the bullet she's too short to have pulled the trigger. His professional opinion ignored, he begins his own investigation and at least one cop accuses him of an ethics violation. He certainly can't deny he's fallen head over heals for the accused, and also is crazy about her son. A huge problem is there's a leak inside the investigation and the murderer is always one step ahead of them.

Shaunna (Slinking to my seat, I nervously straighten in my chair as I fidget with my four inch heels. If I had to stand, I'd probably lose my balance.)  How did you develop the plot for DARKEST HOUR and how did you come up with the name?

Nike: (Snickering at my discomfiture.)  In my Sanctuary Point series, one novel has flowed out of another. Main characters in one novel will appear as subordinate characters in the next novel.  Hank Jansen, the Nassau County Medical Examiner, first appeared in my Christmas/New Year's novel in the series, GOODBYE NOEL. Then he popped up at the murder scene in PERILOUS SHADOWS. I got to like him and thought he'd be a terrific hero. He is the most flawed of my heroes, but like all my other heroes, he seeks to right injustice. So, he needed a heroine, but I wanted a gal who would be put off by him at first. So, I created a widow with a young son who the powerful people in the village seek to frame for the murder of the village doctor. She is dignified and protective of her son and at first thinks Hank is a ladies' man and one who is a bit to cavalier for her taste. Then, of course, he grows on her. The name DARKEST HOUR came to mind because things in this story get so scary for the heroine. 

Shaunna: That's it! I can't wait! I gotta read the first chapter.

Excerpt:

From Chapter One

Sanctuary Point, NY

Lucinda Byrne backed further away from the dead body of her boss, the sides of his suit jacket wide open. Blood oozed from a hole in the center of his chest and spread over the front of his white dress shirt and yellow tie. Dark, angry red... sticky...

A baby-faced police officer snapped photographs of the body where it lay in the gravel parking lot.

Even at this hour, the day threatened to be a hot one, and the smell the body threw off intensified by the minute. She hugged herself, but couldn't stop the trembling, then took another step back. "Someone said the medical examiner was on his way," she mumbled to nobody in particular.

A burgundy Chevrolet sport coupe pulled into the lot. A stylish man with wavy brown hair and a tinge of gray at the temples got out. He walked toward the detective in charge and they talked.

The village detective, with a riot of salt and pepper hair beneath a fedora, jutted his chin in her direction.

The newcomer turned his face toward her. She felt small under this Dapper Dan's scrutiny, but forced herself to stand pat and return his gaze.

He tugged at the razor like crease in his pants, looked down, and squatted beside Dr. McCloud's body, but didn't touch it. There was obviously no need to feel for a pulse.

The detective turned on his heel and approached her. "I'm Detective Ian Daltry, ma'am. I understand you found the body." He took a small notebook and a fountain pen from his jacket pocket.

"Yes, I... I did." She started to sniffle and fought it, not wanting to fall apart while being questioned.

"And Dr. McCloud was your boss?"

"Yes."

"Both you and Dr. McCloud came into work early this morning?"

"I knew he wanted to clear up some paper work, so I came in as well." She clasped her hands together, squeezing the fingers of one hand into the back of the other.

"Really?" His eyes narrowed.

"Yes, Detective, really. Early is fine with me, so is late. I really need my job."

He tapped his notebook with his pen. "When you arrived this morning, did you notice a car coming into the parking lot or pulling out?"

"No, I wasn't looking for that." She'd had her head down as she rushed for the front door, wondering what type of mood the self-important doctor would be in. She'd keep that tidbit to herself.

The detective jotted a note. "When you got out of your car, what did you see?"

"I was walking toward the main entrance and there he was -- on the ground. Blood spreading all over his shirt." She swiped at a tear seeping from the corner of her eye.

The detective wrote in the notebook. "After you got out of your car, did you see anyone walking in or out of the hospital?"

"No one." She looked toward the hospital to prevent the detective from seeing her lower lip trembling. A lock of shoulder-length brown hair fell into her face and she brushed it away.

He made another notation. "Nobody at all?"

"No. I'm sorry. I wish I could help you, but I didn't see anything." The relentless yammering of her thoughts had crushed her, worries that babysitting her young son might be too much for her elderly grandparents. She hadn't been paying attention to her surroundings.

"That's about all the questions I have at this time." He took her address and phone number. Stepped away from her, then turned back, and asked a couple more questions that made no sense to her.

She stood there staring at him as he returned to the body.

If only this morning would end. She rubbed her hands together in an attempt to quell a slight tremor.

A black coach resembling an ambulance drove into the lot. An older man in overalls pulled a collapsible gurney out of the back and raised its bed to hip level. Its chrome gleamed.

A night orderly and two nurses getting off the night shift stopped to watch.

The brown-haired man pointed to the gurney and his voice carried. "They finally allocated some funds my way. Makes transporting much easier. Oscar and I used to carry them on a stretcher. My back sure is grateful to the board of supervisors."

The detective laughed. "Don't you county guys have all the dough you want?"

"Who're you kidding?"

The gurney's wheels rumbled across the gravel parking lot. The older man pulled on the straps of his overalls."Hank, you ready to move the body?"

The stylish man nodded. "Let's do it." They lifted the body onto the gurney and the man in overalls covered Dr. McCloud with a white sheet. Blood seeped through and began spreading.

Lucinda gasped, took another step back, stumbled, but managed to keep her footing. She straightened her spine. She still had to go into that building and work a full day. She had a son to support.

The detective nodded toward the body. "By the size of the hole in his chest, I'd guess he was shot with a pistol, maybe at close range. I need to have the bullet as soon as you recover it."

"Then by all means, you'll be my guest at the autopsy."

"Gee, thanks." The detective shook his head.

The debonair man chuckled, turned, and approached Lucinda.

A tremor ran down her back. More questioning, and all she wanted to do was run and hide. She sniffled and wiped her nose with the side of her index finger.

He reached into his inside pocket and offered her a folded white handkerchief. "It's rough if you've never seen anything like this. I'm Hank Jansen, the medical examiner, by the way."

Lucinda's gaze followed the gurney to the black coach. "He was my boss."

"You work at the hospital for Dr. McCloud?"

"Yes. I... I'm his secretary... was, I mean. And Dr. Hinsey's too." She couldn't believe the doctor's life had ended this way.

Detective Daltry barked, "Hank, can I speak with you?"

"Excuse me." The medical examiner stepped away.

"Wait." Lucinda quickly refolded the handkerchief and handed it back to him. She didn't know this man. Wouldn't begin to know how to return the white cotton cloth. "Don't forget this."

"Take it with you. The day's not over. Things could still get rough." He smiled.

"No, I can't take your hankie."

"Listen, I'll pick it up the next time I'm at the hospital. You say you work for Dr. Hinsey?"

"Hank," the detective called, impatience sharp in his tone.

"Yes, Dr. Hinsey. She's the head of the maternity ward. I'll launder it and have it ready for you."

The medical examiner nodded and smiled. "It's a date. I mean, I'll stop by and pick it up." He turned and trotted toward the detective.

Lucinda slipped the handkerchief into her purse. She headed for the main entrance of the hospital, bent and picked up a fountain pen in the gravel lot.

She pivoted and advanced toward the two men.

The detective made a chopping gesture with his hand and raised his voice. "I'm not fooling, Hank. Don't go putting another notch in your belt. She's a witness."

"Can't a fellow do a simple act of kindness?"

"I'm warning you, stay away from her." The detective spun around and nearly collided with Lucinda.

Heat rushed to her face, and she couldn't meet either man's gaze. If the ground would only open and swallow her. She held the pen out to Detective Daltry. "Uh... I… I'm sorry. I think you dropped this."

---continued tomorrow guys. I'm hooked!  Don't forget to come back!

Chatting w/ Nike, author of Perilous Shadows

Shaunna: So, what's new and interesting about PERILOUS SHADOWS?
Nike: This is the third novel in the series and it's a bit of a psychological whodunit with a ton of romance. My heroine, Kiera Devane, had been badly hurt by life, starting with the untimely death of her parents when she was a child. And things got worse from there for her. So as the story opens in 1947, she's a pioneer newspaper woman trying to excel at what's considered to be a man's job. She's brusque, opinionated, and afraid to get close to people. She has had a poor track record with men and has basically sworn them off. Then she teams up professionally with ace radio broadcaster Argus Nye to catch a killer and her world starts to change in way she can't control. She realizes Argus is a very decent guy who seems to care about her and at the same time the killer has singled her out and appears to be hunting her.

Shaunna: Your novels tend to be what some call "realistic Christian fiction," in that they have fairly gritty crime scenes and flawed characters, much like in real life.
Nike: I have not lived a sheltered life. And I'm very aware there is evil out there. As some know, I attended the Fashion Institute of Technology and worked in the bridal industry before I began writing. That was exciting and of course the atmosphere was lovely. At the tail end of that, I also did a stint in my spare time…but it soon became all consuming…as a pet rescuer. I became aware of the horrid things that humans are capable of doing to animals. From there I became a foster mom to two lovely girls who were returned to their dad. After that we adopted three beautiful girls, half-sisters. I worked as a volunteer for the adoption agency through which we adopted our girls. There I learned of the horrid things parents and grandparents have done to their children. Knowing all this first hand, I can't write sugary novels. I don't think that's why God has called me to write. And yet my stories are uplifting, and the good guys always win.

Author Bio:

Nike Chillemi has been called a crime fictionista due to her passion for crime fiction. She was an Inspy Awards 2010 judge in the Suspense/Thriller/Mystery category and a judge in the 2011 and 2012 Carol Awards in the suspense, mystery, and romantic suspense categories. She is the founding board member of the Grace Awards and its Chairman, a reader's choice awards for excellence in Christian fiction. She writes book reviews for The Christian Pulse online magazine. BURNING HEARTS is the first book in the crime wave that is sweeping the south shore of Long Island in The Sanctuary Point series, published by Desert Breeze. GOODBYE NOEL, the second book in the series released in December, 2011 won the Grace Award 2011 in the Mystery/Romantic Suspense/Thriller category. PERILOUS SHADOWS, the third in the series released in July, 2012. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) and the Edgy Christian Fiction Lovers (Ning).

Purchase Links:
Amazon (including Kindle). http://is.gd/egHcSR
Barnes and Noble (including Nook). http://is.gd/RJF2zy

Perilous Shadows

Perilous Shadows Blurb: (Historical Romantic Thriller, late-1940s --- Sweet romance, warm intimacy, sophisticated themes presented tastefully

Pioneer newspaperwoman Kiera Devane is on a mission to prove a woman can do a man's job, as she hunts a young coed's killer? Ace radio broadcaster Argus Nye lost one love to a murderous fiend and his pulse races as he tries to protect Kiera from herself as much as from this killer.

Kiera was doted upon by loving parent, but they were killed when she was a girl and she was shipped off to live with a socialite aunt who had little time for her. In her aunt's house, she learned life could be cold and cruel. As a result, she grew up to be an independent and demanding professional woman.

Argus Nye, still bereft from the loss of his first love, can't understand why this female reporter is mesmerizing him. As she takes chances with her life trying to catch a killer, he's determined to protect her.

From Chapter 3


Argus walked Kiera out of the diner and took her elbow as her heels tapped down the cement steps. Her suit was austere, yet somehow she made it sizzle. He shifted his eyes away so as not to be caught staring, but not before taking a second look. "I'll walk you to your car."

"No, that's quite all right. I've been taking care of myself for a long time."

"Still, lass, I don't feel quite right."

"This is the Tastee Diner parking lot. It's well lit. What could happen?"

Argus rubbed his chin. "Oh all right, if you insist. I'll say good night here." He’d tried to be the gentleman, but she was skittish as a young filly.

"Trust me. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

Fighting against an uneasy feeling in his gut, Argus walked to his car on the other side of the lot. Since Ada's death, he'd become overprotective toward women. Fishing in his pocket for his keys, he heard raised voices. One of them, Kiera's.

"Leave me alone. You cheated on me."

Argus dashed for Kiera's car, thinking he recognized the male voice, yet he couldn't quite place it.

"Give me another chance. You misunderstood. It meant nothing." Paul Gregorski, sportscaster at the station, had a hold of Kiera's arm.

A jolt like an electrical charge shot through Argus. "Let go of her if you know what's good for you."

Paul dropped the arm and turned to face Argus. "So, you bumped my show for your special report, and now you want my girl."

"My relationship with Miss Devane is purely professional." He would not allow the slightest insinuation.

Kiera squared her shoulders. "Look, Paul, I wish you well, but let's let bygones be bygones."

The sportscaster slanted his head toward Argus. "I don't want to discuss this in front of him."

"I'm not going anywhere unless Miss Devane asks me to leave."

Kiera pivoted away from them and pulled her car keys out of her purse. "I don't give a hoot what either of you do. I'm going home." She slid behind the wheel of the Pontiac, backed out of her spot, and gunned it out of the lot.

Argus watched her signal light flash a right. She made the turn and her taillights disappeared into the twilight. He laughed aloud.

Paul growled. "What's so funny?"

Argus shook his head and walked to his DeSoto, got in, and put the key in the ignition, but didn't turn it on. She'd never be mistaken for a Carmelite nun. Not in a million years. Blunt, not soft and feminine like his Ada had been. And where'd Kiera get that short Betty Boop hair-do? Not his style at all. No Sir. Where Ada was a sensitive and godly woman, this one was so hardboiled he couldn't imagine her on her knees praying. So, why was she so captivating?