The Summer of Love and Death by Marcy McCreary 
Guest Post + an Excerpt + Book & Author Info + a Giveaway!
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The Summer of Life and Death
The summer of ’69: memorable for some, murder for others.
Detective Susan Ford and her new partner, Detective Jack Tomelli, are called to a crime scene at the local summer stock theater where they find the director of Murder on the Orient Express gruesomely murdered—naked, face caked in makeup, pillow at his feet, wrists and ankles bound by rope. When Susan describes the murder to her dad, retired detective Will Ford, he recognizes the MO of a 1969 serial killer . . . a case he worked fifty years ago.
Will remembers a lot of things about that summer—the Woodstock Festival, the Apollo 11 moon landing, the Miracle Mets—yet he is fuzzy on the details of the decades-old case. But when Susan and Jack discover the old case files, his memories start trickling back. And with each old and new clue, Susan, Jack, and Will must narrow down the pool of suspects before the killer strikes again.
Book Details:
Genre: Mystery (Detective)
Published by: CamCat Books
Publication Date: August 13, 2024
Number of Pages: 336
ISBN: 9780744310597 (ISBN10: 0744310598)
Series: A Ford Family Mystery, #3 | A Stand-Alone Series
To purchase The Summer of Love and Death, click any of the following links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | CamCat Books
Guest post from Marcy McCreary
How a Cover Concept Inspired a Story Element
Publishing a book has many thrilling and pinch-me moments, but I think one of my favorite moments is seeing the cover art concepts for the first time. That’s when things start getting real. Every publishing house is different. Sometimes authors get a say, sometimes they don’t. Luckily, my publisher, CamCat Books, encourages its authors to take part in the process.
To start the ball rolling, the art director sends me a “Cover Brief” to fill out. The first part is easy: a description of the book, a few pertinent details about the story that might impact the cover, the intended audience, the category/genre. Then comes the creative part . . . words that describe the tone of the book (what kind of mood should the cover evoke) and the emotion of the book’s message (what do I want my readers to feel when they look at the cover). I used words like mysterious, intriguing, cryptic, enigmatic, nostalgic.
The next section of the Brief asks what elements of the story should be echoed on the cover. A particular season? An era? A character? A prop? Because my story explores intergenerational trauma, is partly set in 1969, and involves a serial killer who ties up his victims with rope, I suggested imagery such as a DNA helix made of rope, a DNA helix in psychedelic or tie-dye colors, or a DNA helix wrapped around a peace sign. I proposed a dove perched on a rope, a sort of homage to the Woodstock Festival poster. I also suggested simply creating a cover with psychedelic patterns or tie-dyed colors with no objects. I was also asked what I didn’t want to see on the cover. The answer to that was easy: people. And that was simply because that element did not appear on the two earlier books in the series.
And lastly, I researched other books that were published in the last five years to find covers I liked and didn’t like to give the art director a point of reference as to what appealed to me and what I wanted to avoid.
Then comes the fun part. The art director sent me fifteen cover concepts to weigh in on. Turns out the DNA concept made the novels look like medical or sci-fi thrillers—so those didn’t quite work. I loved the tie-dyed covers—and there were several colors and patterns in the mix to choose from. But one cover stood out from the rest. On it, a stained glass peace-sign necklace. But I was hesitant in choosing it. Why? There was no stained glass peace-sign necklace in my story! I mean, sure, there’s a connection to 1969, but the dominance of the necklace on the cover made it seem like it was an integral part of the plot. And that got me thinking . . . was there a way to incorporate that necklace into the storyline?
As I mentioned earlier in this essay, intergenerational trauma—its detrimental and long-lasting effects—is a key theme explored in my novel, the notion of psychological and genetic baggage passed down from one generation to the next. What if the stained glass peace-sign necklace was a physical manifestation of intergenerational trauma, some unwanted thing passed down from one generation to the next. An unwelcome inheritance of sorts. Something that reminds you of a past you would rather forget. And once I got that seed of an idea, I figured out how to weave the stained glass peace-sign necklace into the storyline.
Read an excerpt of The Summer of Love and Death:
You know that jittery, gut-roiling feeling you get when heading out on a blind date? That brew of nerves, anxiety, anticipation—plus a hint of dread. That pretty much summed up my morning. Today was the day, and standing at the front door, it finally hit me. I was no longer flying solo. A new partner was waiting for me down at the station.
My fingers twitchy, I fumbled with the zipper of my yellow slicker as I stood in front of the framed poster—an illustration of a white dove perched on a blue guitar neck, gripped by ivory fingers against a bright red background—touting three days of peace and music. Usually, I paid it no mind. But today it captured my attention. A signal, perhaps, that everything would turn out just fine, like it did exactly fifty years ago when four hundred thousand idealistic hippies descended upon this town. A projected disaster that ended up being a glorious experience. The legendary summer of love.
The Woodstock Music and Art Fair didn’t take place in Woodstock, New York. The residents of Woodstock were not keen on having the initially projected fifty thousand hippies traipsing through their town. The concert promoters eventually secured Max Yasgur’s dairy farm in Bethel, New York—fifty-eight miles from Woodstock and six miles from where I live now. I was four at the time. I have no memory of it. Mom said I was sicker than sick that weekend. Ear infection. Fever escalating to 104 degrees. She tried to take me to a doctor, but the roads were clogged with festival revelers, so she had to postpone my appointment until Tuesday. But by then, the worst of it was over.
Fifty years. Those teenagers were in their sixties and seventies now. The older ones in their eighties. How many of them were still idealistic? How many were still into peace, love, and understanding? How many “dropped out” and berated “the man,” only later to find themselves the beneficiaries of capitalism? Becoming “the man.”
I leaned over slightly as I reached for the doorknob. The door swung open unexpectedly, smacking me in the forehead. “Whoa.” I ran my fingertips along my hairline. No bump. For now.
“Sorry, babe.” Ray’s voice drew Moxie’s attention. Our thirteen year-old lab mix moseyed into the foyer, tail in full swing. Moseying was really all Moxie could muster these days. “Didn’t realize you were standing there.”
Ray had left the house an hour earlier. I peered over his shoulder at the running Jeep. “Forget something?”
“Yeah. My wallet.” Ray stepped inside, dripping. Moxie stared up at him, waiting. He squatted and rubbed her ears. “Raining cats and dogs out there. No offense, Moxie.” He glanced up at the poster. “Just like fifty years ago.” He sighed.
Ray’s parents were married at the festival by a traveling minister. One-year-old Ray in tow (earning him bragging rights as one of the youngest people to attend Woodstock). Tomorrow would have been their fiftieth wedding anniversary. Their death, at the hand of a drunk driver twelve years ago, spawned a program called Better Mad Than Sad—a class baked into the local drivers-ed curriculum that Ray (and the drunk driver’s girlfriend, Marisa) created ten years ago. Parents would join their kids for a fifty-minute session in which they pledged to pick up their kids or their kid’s friends, no questions asked, no judgment passed.
Last month, Ray reached out to a few of his and his parents’ friends asking if they would be up for a “celebration of life” vigil at the Woodstock Festival site this evening. Nothing formal. Just twenty or so folks standing around, reminiscing and shooting the shit about his parents.
Ray shook the rain off his jacket. “Met your new partner this morning.”
“Yeah?”
“He’s very good-looking.” He smirked, then added, “Movie-star good looking.”
I leaned back and gave Ray the once-over. “I’m more into the rough-around-the-edges type.”
“So I got nothing to worry about?”
“Not as long as you treat me right.” I smiled coyly. I had been without an official partner for a little over a year, since July 2018. My ex-partner bought a small farm in Vermont. He told me not to take it personally, but he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I still wondered if I contributed to his anxiety in some small way. Then I got shot in the thigh that August. So hiring a new partner was put on hold. Upon my return to active duty in October of 2018, I was assigned an under-the-radar cold case with my dad brought on as consulting partner. By the time the Trudy Solomon case was resolved, in December 2018, Chief Eldridge still hadn’t found a suitable replacement. Small-town policing isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. So for the better part of 2019, it was just me and my shadow. Dad and Ray assisted on the Madison Garcia case, but the chief made it clear that protocol called for two detectives working a case, and my partnerless days were numbered. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I didn’t want a partner. I did. I just wished I had a say in who it was.
*** Excerpt from The Summer of Love and Death by Marcy McCreary. Copyright 2024 by Marcy McCreary. Reproduced with permission from Marcy McCreary. All rights reserved.
Marcy McCreary — Author of The Summer of Love and Death
Marcy McCreary is the author of the Ford Family Mystery series.
She graduated from George Washington University with a B.A. in American literature and political science and pursued a career in marketing and communications.
She lives in Hull, MA with her husband, Lew.
To learn more about Marcy, click on any of the following links: www.MarcyMcCreary.com, Goodreads, BookBub – @marcymccreary, Instagram – @marcymccrearyauthor, Threads – @marcymccrearyauthor, Twitter/X – @mcmarcy & Facebook – @marcymccrearywrites
Visit all the Stops on the Tour!
08/20 Interview @ Literary Gold
08/20 Showcase @ Mystery, Thrillers, and Suspense
08/21 Showcase @ Books, Ramblings, and Tea
08/21 Showcase @ Silvers Reviews
08/22 Review @ Pat Fayo reviews
08/23 Review @ Paws. Read. Repeat
08/24 Review @ Guatemala Paula Loves to Read
08/25 Guest post @ Binge Reading Books
08/26 Review @ Book Reviews From an Avid Reader
08/26 Review @ Country Mamas With Kids
08/27 Showcase @ fuonlyknew
08/28 Showcase @ 411 ON BOOKS, AUTHORS, AND PUBLISHING NEWS
08/29 Showcase @ Celticladys Reviews
08/30 Guest post @ The Mystery of Writing
09/05 Interview @ darciahelle
09/09 Review @ bookwormbecky1969
Elena Hartwell/Elena Taylor
I love this guest post!
As an artist, I love and am always interested in book covers!
Some of them have even inspired some of my paintings.
This is a great cover.
Agreed, such a fun cover. Now I want to see your paintings!
Just as you intended, the cover does a wonderful job at evoking the earlier time period. Great way to pull us into the mystery!
Thank you Wendy. Glad you enjoyed the story of the cover!