A lifetime ago, I lived in The Big Easy - New Orleans. Algiers Point on the West Bank if you were curious. So many characters, so many stories. True stories, at that. Things I still don't believe.
The local dialect was a combination of English, French, Cajun (not quite English, not quite French - It's just, well, Cajun) and everything seasoned with a healthy dose of Afro-Caribbean. The VooDoo was only in certain parts of the city so I won't include it here.
One of my favorite words learned from my time there? Lagniappe.
Basically, when something is offered free and unexpectedly, it is a bit of lagniappe. A bartender gives a free round of shots to the regulars? Lagniappe. You get the idea.
If you look at the menu at the top of the page, you will see Serial Fiction. Years ago I started my writing adventure with serial fiction. It was more on the hard boiled side of life. The main character was a loose cannon private eye, Witt Kepler. After a dozen or so episodes, he ended up in Canada, still chasing the bad guy.
Years later, his daughter would be Winnie Kepler. Winnie as in Winnipeg. You can make the connection, I'm sure. She's the protagonist in my cozy mystery series.
Now history repeats itself. I am launching a new serial. This on the hard boiled side, almost noir. Maybe more noir. It's just starting so we'll just have to see where we end up.
No One to Call - written in the first person, as told by the protagonist to me, vicariously you. It won't have grammatically correct sentence structure. There is slang. The protagonist will face choices, and often will make the wrong one. Sometimes, it will seem like no one wins.
Welcome to noir.
My lagniappe - to you.
I hope you enjoy it.