Where did you grow up? I grew up in the country (now suburbs) about five miles outside Danville, Virginia, the "Last Capital of the Confederacy," also famous as "the bright leaf tobacco market of the world" and the home of Dan River Cotton Mills. As you might imagine, Southern history and tradition played important roles in my upbringing. The first history book I remember reading in school was about Virginia history not U.S. The first speech I ever memorized was Patrick Henry's fiery "Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death" - which I later recalled with some irony when I learned the truth about the founding fathers and slavery. However, I am still a proud Virginian. I was the oldest of two children, one girl and one boy. My parents were Danville natives. When I was a child, my maternal grandmother lived with us and provided supervision while my parents were at work. My mother came from a large family, so I had a bunch of aunts, uncles, and cousins on her side. Some of my favorite family photos were taken at my Uncle Jimmy's house when we all gathered there on Christmas evening. My father was an only child. His father was a farmer, and even though my father worked in Dan River Mills all his life, in summers he lived for his garden and sold what he grew. (But it has still taken me years and years to learn to love collard greens. Corn bread, yes. Collard greens only recently.) As the oldest child, I learned to be properly bossy when dealing with my younger brother. Now that we're both grown-ups (most of the time), we are able to carry on intelligent conversations and even view each other with some affection. But, as he will tell you, the nickname that I gave him when he was a toddler - and that nobody else in the world calls him - still automatically pops out of my mouth. Luckily, his wife has figured out who I mean when I call and ask to speak to "Head." Enough about family. When did you start to write? I don't remember when I didn't write. I was a shy child, and it was one of those things that I could do alone. In my teens, I discovered mysteries and wrote my first fan letter to a writer—Richard Martin Stern—who thrilled me to my toes by writing back. I even persuaded my parents to sign me up for the Famous Writers course on short stories. I never finished the course, but I did read the books they sent me on writing. I even have my graded short stories stashed away somewhere. My "career" as a mystery writer didn't begin until after I had attended Virginia Tech. Go Hokies!!! At Tech, I started out intending to be a veterinarian, but ended up with a double major in Psychology and English. It was while I was living in Seattle and serving in the U.S. Army as a food inspector, that I began to write fiction again. My first book was a romantic suspense novel. The second was a mystery. Both went into my desk drawer, but I still have the drafts (badly typed and covered in red ink). My third book was non-fiction, and I wrote it after I had finally finished my dissertation in criminal justice a U Albany. The research for that third book, Out of the Woodpile: Black Characters in Crime and Detective Fiction, led me to mystery workshops and conferences. I begin to think again about writing mysteries. When I moved from Frankfort, Kentucky, where I was teaching, back to Albany, I joined a writing group. That was when I began to make a serious effort to write a mystery that I hoped might eventually be published. What else do you do for fun? Read, travel - travel every chance I get - go to movies, see friends, plan my dream house...all the usual stuff. One of these days, I intend to learn French and actually get that black belt I've always wanted in karate (if only I can find the discipline to start lessons again and this time stick with it).