You are currently viewing A Bad Bout of the Yips

A Bad Bout of the Yips

A Bad Bout of the Yips by Ken Harris

Guest Post + Book & Author Info + Excerpt

Don’t miss any book tour posts! Click the link here.

A Bad Bout of the Yips

A Bad Bout of the Yips PI Steve Rockfish’s morning meeting was supposed to focus on a case of straightforward harassment. Two clients had purchased a miniature golf course and instantly became victims of vandalism and projected intolerance. But as the team investigates, a neighborhood’s bigoted knee jerk reaction to a new sapphic-owned business, is in fact a laser focused plan of intimidation.

Before anyone can yell FORE!, violence litters the front nine after Rockfish uncovers the real perpetrator, their actual motive, and dangerous accomplices. Soon, an old nemesis returns to raise the stakes with plans of revenge and domination. Now facing a battle on two fronts, Rockfish finds his allies thinning at the worst possible time, and recklessly goes on the offensive.

The back nine takes Rockfish and McGee on a frenetic ride from a corporate boardroom, across cyberspace, and to the 19th hole where a long overdue showdown will change everything for the partners, for better and worse.

Book Details:

Genre: Crime Fiction

Published by: Black Rose Writing

Publication Date: March 2023

Number of Pages: 356

ISBN: 1685131530 (ISBN-13 978-1685131531)

Series: The Case Files of Steve Rockfish – 3

To purchase A Bad Bout of the Yips, click any of the following links: Amazon | BLACK ROSE WRITING

Guest Post — The Trouble with Cell Phones

by Ken Harris

Ah, modern technology. The amount of computing power in the average cell phone is greater than what it took to put a man on the moon. Sometimes it is hard to wrap your head around statistics like that. Especially when you’re an old fart like me. Imagine trying to write a crime thriller in today’s world. Where everyone has a cell phone in their hand. At all times. Geeze Louise. Does an author account for the device? Do you coast over it and hope the reader doesn’t ask “Why didn’t they pull out their cell phone?”

For every scene I write, where a character can use Siri to open a new note and dictate a report or document something they might have seen while on surveillance, there are others where I have to account for the same damn phone. Sometimes a huge help, others a larger hindrance. My main protagonist, Steve Rockfish, is a hard-nosed, hard-drinking old school private eye. His partner, Jawnie McGee is a hipster computer nerd. Former computer repair tech and the one who’s helping bring Rockfish into the 21st century. He’s reluctantly holding on to his colored pencils and 3×5 index cards.

Cell phones. Smart phones. Every walking person has one. Children and even Rockfish now rocks an iPhone. It’s a technology angle that could be addressed in every scene of a chapter. In every chapter of a novel. Going to meet a potential bad guy? Why not have the phone in your breast pocket and recording? Why not use the camera to document a scene? Or use it to call for help as the bad guys close in? These are thoughts that potentially could pull the reader out of the story and that is the last thing I want to do. How long will they ponder the point? Will they pick up the book again or has the bookmark been pulled?

In a lot of crime thrillers, characters are captured or taken into custody. Can you just gloss over the removal of their personal devices? You can’t have someone use their phone after being locked away in a room. The first thing a reader will wonder is why were the bad guys so dumb as to not search them. They searched them for weapons, right? Why skip the cell phone in the jacket pocket? Or buried at the bottom of a purse.

Technology. You have to account for it. No ways around it. It’s a part of being an author in these times that is very challenging. There are scenes where I sit back, push the keyboard in and revel in how well it turned out. Then I realize, well Jawnie has a cell phone in her back pocket, why didn’t she do this that or the other thing? How would that have turned the tables? Why didn’t she just dial 9-1-1? In “See You Next Tuesday: From the Case Files of Steve Rockfish – 2” I had a beta reader inquire exactly that. They send me a text message detailing what scene they finished. The next text simply said “why didn’t they dial 9-1-1 when they left the gas station?” Back into my 9th draft I dove, trying to prevent anyone else from pondering that same issue.

What would be an example of overlooking technology that would pull you out of the story? Or the complete opposite, the ever-popular sprinkling of Hollywood between the words that makes you question if it would even be possible to do. You’ve read the scene. A computer tech types very hard on a keyboard for seven seconds, claims to have hacked half a dozen mainframe computers and displays the results in a virtual 3D model above the conference room table.

I’d like to know your thoughts down in the comments. Help an inquisitive author understand.

Read an excerpt from A Bad Bout of The Yips


You’ve reached Rockfish & McGee, Investigative Specialists. At the tone, leave your name and message. Someone will get back to you. [Beep]

Jawnie stared down at her phone, annoyed. She hung up the call after the office’s message ended and slid the phone into her messenger bag. With a proper receptionist comes a proper voicemail message. It’s about time. Where the heck is everyone? Rockfish could be out doing God knows what, but what about Lynn? Maybe she’s in the can after an extra spicy lunch? Jawnie laughed to herself. There were a thousand and one reasons Lynn couldn’t get to the phone. Don’t go all Rockfish at once.

The sun had slipped behind the clouds on a mid-Thursday afternoon when Jawnie walked down the endless row of marble steps in front of the Baltimore County Government building. She had submitted her final report regarding former county employee Harvey Henderson, who had been sitting at home on disability from a leg injury suffered while on the job. Henderson ran a bulldozer at the county landfill. That was until he fell off the equipment and reportedly injured his leg.

Jawnie loved this type of case. She conducted a couple of surveillances to find out Henderson’s daily schedule and then one final, quick outing to snap a few pictures from a safe distance. Jawnie followed Harvey and his mistress down to the town of Laurel and out on the Rocky Gorge Reservoir, where the couple spent the day attempting to wake-board. The day served as a twofer and the future ex-Mrs. Henderson would gain the information needed to win her freedom without spending a dime.

At the bottom of the steps, she pulled her phone back out, and double checked the time. Five after two and still no notifications. Apparently, nothing of importance had transpired while she was in the meeting with the County Commissioners. Her car was across the street in the paid lot, and she glanced up from the screen. Jawnie felt flush and concern filled her brain. The green Kia Soul remained parked at the corner, blocking a hydrant. Her heart kicked it up a notch.

The damn thing hadn’t moved in the hour and a half while I was inside. Jesus Christ, I don’t need this shit today. Or any day. Fuck.

Three times today since leaving her condo, the Kia coincidently found itself parked nearby, always within eyesight. The odd shaped vehicle and the color stood out. Amateur hour or someone who clearly wants me to notice. Jawnie gritted her teeth, glanced both ways, and then kept her head down as she jogged across the street. She walked through the small lot until she found her Subaru and slid behind the wheel. She pulled around to the exit gate and paid the attendant. A second later, the arm rose, but the car didn’t move. Thoughts of the Kia had Jawnie lost deep in her mind.

What Would Rockfish Do? Probably tell me to go on the offensive, concern be damned. Well, I’m definitely not going to pull sideways in front of this guy, jump out and confront him, that’s for sure. People are crazy these days and with my luck I’d end up TikTok famous #KarensGoneWild. Okay, let’s see if I’m imagining things. Maybe give him a little I see you action instead.

Jawnie turned left onto Pennsylvania Ave and sped up. At the end of the block, when she was right alongside the Kia, she held her breath and cut the wheel. The Subaru hung a hard right onto Baltimore Ave and missed the Kia’s left front fender by only a foot. Enough to make him take notice. She straightened the wheel and exhaled. Her eyes shot to the rearview mirror. The Kia followed suit but was losing ground as she pressed down on the accelerator. The car remained a block back when Jawnie turned right again. Her eyes flickered from the front windshield to the rearview, expecting to see the Kia at any second, but it never appeared. Or at least that she noticed. Her grip on the steering wheel grew tighter.

Did I lose him? Was he some civilian who flew into road rage when I almost hit him and then gave up once his blood pressure came down? No. I definitely saw that car multiple times today.

Half an hour later and back in Anne Arundel County, Jawnie received an answer to her question. She spotted the Kia two cars back at a traffic light. Alright McGee, you aren’t imagining things. Let’s figure out who this driver is.

“Hey Siri. New note.”

“What do you want it to say?”

“Dark green Kia Soul Maryland Plate 555-RJ4K.”

“Ok, I’ve created your note. It’s called Dark green Kia Soul Maryland plate 555-RJ4K.”

I’ll call Michelle at DMV to run it as soon as I get back to the office. The favor may cost me a drink or an actual date, but it will be worth it to know who he is. Hopefully, the name will ring a bell. The last thing I need is a fresh surprise.

Jawnie was only a mile from the office but took the Kia on a short sight-seeing tour of Linthicum Heights. See exactly how dedicated the driver was to their mission. First stop was Fairway Car Wash. Jawnie got in line behind the others and when it was her turn, she lined up the front left tire to the guide and selected the Supreme.

A tapping on the driver’s side glass caught her attention. “Hands off the wheel, ma’am.”

Jawnie looked down. White knuckles. Her hands slid off the wheel and fell to her lap as the car jerked forward. She tried to relax and think calmly as the conveyor pulled her forward. Each stage coated the windshield with a different chemical and blocked the view. Because you don’t see him, it doesn’t mean he’s gone. Maybe he’s hiding behind that iHop, but with a simple line of sight as you exit the car wash? What’s next? Mario’s? She had dry cleaning that was overdue to be picked up. Big ass empty lot there, nowhere to hide and nowhere to street park. As she exited the car wash, the track gave way. Her hands returned to the wheel. Jawnie waved off the man, wanting to finish drying the Subaru with an armful of hand towels. I’m good, no thank you, she mouthed as she cracked the window and slid out a five-dollar bill.

Mario’s was four lights further down the road and by the third red light, the Kia emerged from the background. Jawnie could feel the sweat building on her lower back. A single drop formed on the side of her face. She lifted her arm and wiped away the drop with her sleeve. Mario’s came up on the left and Jawnie put on her blinker. No need to attempt some big ruse at this point.

Five minutes later, she exited Mario’s with her dry cleaning hung over her left shoulder and iPhone held in her right, ready to capture the moment for posterity’s sake. Jawnie took the picture before the guy could raise his newspaper in a piss poor effort to hide his identity. She unlocked the Subaru and hung her clothes on the back hook. She got in and slammed the door. A combination of the force and noise caused her to jump. Goddamnit! WWRD? I should have done something proactive after the meeting back at the county building. Jawnie reached into the center console. She chose her weapon of choice and speed walked to the Kia. Deep breath, deep breath. Look and act like you belong here.

The man was blond, with very short hair. Maybe balding. She couldn’t tell with the slight window tint. When he spotted her approaching, the newspaper went back up. Jawnie snapped another picture before sliding the phone into her back pocket. She tapped on the window. The early edition of the Baltimore Sun didn’t move.

She rapped her knuckles a second time. Harder, louder. This time the paper came down and the man’s eyebrows went up. He reached over and lowered the window, roughly two inches, before speaking.

“Can I help—”

The mace streamed through the opening as if she was an Olympic crack shot. The creeper didn’t see it coming and Jawnie didn’t stick around to see the after-effects. She could hear his screams, interlaced with every curse word in the book by the time she slid behind the wheel. Her death grip returned, and she rocketed out of Mario’s parking lot without a clear destination in mind and a little less rubber on her tires.

The Subaru ended up in the parking lot of a Wawa, a good half mile down the road. Jawnie parked behind the convenience store. She pulled up the note she made earlier with the Kia’s license plate and added the photos. At the bottom of the note, she dictated the man’s description in two sentences and returned her phone to the cup holder.

Jawnie exhaled and didn’t move. How long had it been? Three months? Maybe a little longer. Well, kid, it was an enjoyable ride. I look forward to the next extended period of calm. Maybe today showed I’m not built for this line of work. Her mind went back to the night on Rockfish’s front lawn. Porbeagle’s gun. The sound of the shot. The smell of burning cotton as the bullet passed through the material of her oversized sweatshirt. Fixing middle school laptops out of my garage doesn’t sound so bad now. Granted, no one’s launching a streaming network based on that show, but then again, I don’t have to look over my shoulder every time I leave the goddamn house. Jawnie stopped rubbing her hands and dropped her head into them. The tears flowed freely.

She didn’t remember how long she remained parked next to the dumpster, but when she felt she could make it back to the office without having a complete emotional meltdown, she shifted into drive.

*** Excerpt from A Bad Bout of the Yips by Ken Harris. Copyright 2023 by Ken Harris. Reproduced with permission from Ken Harris.  


Ken Harris, author of A Bad Bout of the Yips

A Bad Bout of the Yips Ken Harris retired from the FBI, after thirty-two years, as a cybersecurity executive. With over three decades writing intelligence products for senior Government officials, Ken provides unique perspectives on the conventional fast-paced crime thriller. He is the author of the “From the Case Files of Steve Rockfish” series.

He spends days with his wife Nicolita, and two Labradors, Shady and Chalupa Batman. Evenings are spent playing Walkabout Mini Golf and cheering on Philadelphia sports.

Ken firmly believes Pink Floyd, Irish whiskey and a Montecristo cigar are the only muses necessary. He is a native of New Jersey and currently resides in Virginia’s Northern Neck.

To learn more about Ken, click on any of the following links:, Goodreads, BookBub – @08025writes, Instagram – @kenharrisfiction, Twitter – @08025writes, Facebook – @kah623Twitch – @kenharrisfiction

Visit all the Stops on the Tour!

A Bad Bout of the Yips

03/06 Showcase @ Silvers Reviews
03/08 Showcase @ Books, Ramblings, and Tea
03/11 Guest post @ The Book Divas Reads
03/12 Interview @ Mythical Books
03/13 Review @ flightnurse70_book_reviews
03/14 Showcase @ Celticladys Reviews
03/15 Guest post @ The Mystery of Writing
03/16 Review @ Book Reviews From an Avid Reader
03/18 Interview @ darciahelle
03/19 Review @ Urban Book Reviews
03/21 Interview @ Hott Books
03/22 Review @ Wall-to-wall Books
03/24 Review @ Novels Alive
03/25 Showcase @ Im Into Books
03/30 Review @ Paws. Read. Repeat
03/30 Review @ Guatemala Paula Loves to Read
03/31 Review @ Melissa As Blog
04/01 Review @ Review Thick & Thin

Elena Taylor/Elena Hartwell

All We Buried, available now in print, e-book, and audio.

Silver Falchion Award Finalist, Best Investigator

Foreword INDIE Award Finalist, Best Mystery



The Foundation of Plot, a Wait, Wait, Don’t Query (Yet!) guidebook. Amazon #1 bestseller

Elena Hartwell

Author and developmental editor.

This Post Has 3 Comments

  1. Ken Harris

    Thanks for having me. Appreciate the support!

  2. Wendy B

    Loved this guest post!
    I do love reading a book that is all up on technology. And I do have to admit I have done this more than a few times when reading a book or watching a series – “Why didn’t they pull out their cell phone?”, or better yet, “Why didn’t they just text them?” LOL
    I actually love the way you have the mix of – “Steve Rockfish, is a hard-nosed, hard-drinking old school private eye. His partner, Jawnie McGee is a hipster computer nerd.” – THAT makes for great reading and a good balance.
    I am currently enjoying this book! 🙂

Leave a Reply