The Dog Ate My Newsletter
Feb 17, 2026 1:51 pm
No, the dog really didn't eat my newsletter, but it is late this month. Time just got away from me. I hope you enjoy it, all the same!
Liese
Celebrating Sherlock in New York
This year, the Baker Street Irregulars (the first Sherlockian literary society in the world) held its annual dinner and birthday weekend, January 7–11. Sherlockians from around the world come to New York each year to visit with old friends and eat...and eat...and eat.
Due other commitments, I didn't arrive until Thursday, January 8. By that time, I'd already missed, an original radio-play on Wednesday, the dinner that night hosted by the Adventuresses of Sherlock Holmes (ASH Wednesday dinner), the annual walk that highlights areas around New York City associated with Christopher Morley (the founder of the Baker Street Irregulars) and lunch at McSorley's pub (the oldest Irish pub in New York - if you ever visit, get the corned beef hash). There was also the presentation of the Doylean Awards (the anthology "Into the Fire," where my story "The Black Diamond Brotherhood" appears received an award for "Fiction and Poetry") and a "Wessex Cup horse race" at the Mysterious Bookshop.
I did attend the 29th BSI Distinguished Speaker Lecture at the New York City Bar Association, featuring celebrated composer, playwright, and author Rupert Holmes. He was the composer and writer behind the "Pina Colada" song (🎶 "If you like pina coladas...." 🎶). Fun facts: the true title is "Escape" and Mr. Holmes (his songwriter's name) has never had to buy a pina colada since it came out (and he'd never had one before then). Here he is playing an electric clarinet during his talk.
On Friday, I attended the William Gillette Memorial Luncheon that includes a performance in honor of William Gillette (who wrote and performed a Sherlock Holmes play all over the world). And then the big event: the invitation-only BSI Dinner at the Yale Club where there is a full program honoring its members and investing new ones. The group then continues festivities downstairs in the bar. There, I met up with the others invested two years ago with me.
Saturday includes a "merchants' room" where dealers and collectors provide items for sale. Wessex Press offered copies of their latest publication, On the Shoulders of Giants, for sale (more about that below), and Belanger Books also had copies of Into the Fire. I signed a few of both during the event.
Another luncheon and then a dinner follow on Saturday. The dinner is titled "Lost in New York with a Bunch of Sherlockians." The dinner started several years ago when a group had no idea what to do for dinner, and so went out. It has since become an annual affair.
I left early on Sunday, so I didn't attend the final event: an informal brunch.
Except for a few events (like the annual dinner), most are open to all who wish to participate. Next year's dinner will be on January 15, 2027. If interested in learning more, please visit https://bakerstreetirregulars.com.
Stop by for Groceries, but Stay for the Book!
Just a reminder that I will be at the following Kroger stores in the DFW area (some dates and stores have changed from my last email):
February 18: 1-4 pm
Little Elm Kroger:
2671 Little Elm Pkwy
Little Elm, TX
February 23: 1-4 pm and February 28: 1-4 pm
Denton Kroger:
5021 Teasley Lane
Denton, TX
March 7: 1-4 pm
Garland Kroger:
532 W Interstate 30
Garland, TX
New Release!
On the Shoulders of Giants:
Great Sherlockians Remembered
“All Sherlockians are interesting.”
Some of the biographies included in this book are of well-known Sherlockians, and revisiting their lives provides insights into the men and women who shaped the hobby. Others may be less familiar, but all twenty-one chronicled in the book kept the memory of the Great Detective and his world alive. This book is an effort to keep the memory of notable Sherlockians alive as well. All Sherlockians truly stand on the shoulders of these giants.
My short biography of Francine Morris Swift (the founder of the Crew of the Barque Lone Star) is part of this collection. I LOVE this photo posted in her local paper of an 18-year-old Francine leaving her small town of Greenville, Texas to head off to the University of Texas in Austin. While she peered into her future there, I'm sure she never expected her life to be as extraordinary as it was!
Available through Wessex Press.
Get the Award-Winning Book Into the Fire
SHERLOCK HOLMES IN SEVENTEEN TALES OF GOTHIC HORROR, MYSTERY AND ADVENTURE!
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s classic Round the Fire collection is concerned, he said, “…with the grotesque and with the terrible.” These stories never go out of style or lack for an audience, but they may leave their audience perplexed. Cue Sherlock Holmes! Who better to explain and contain these inexplicable others?
Sherlock Holmes Into the Fire connects the original tales from Round the Fire with a new Sherlock Holmes adventure, thrusting the Great Detective into these worlds of mystery, adventure, and gothic horror. Seventeen writers have pooled their talents to accept this literary challenge… do you dare to read on?
Available from Amazon.
Elvis Has Left the Building
Part 2
A recap of Part 1: Struggling lawyer Charlie Davidson fights to keep her failing Oak Cliff practice afloat after being blacklisted for refusing her former boss’s advances. When a stripper named Kandy Kane arrives seeking help recovering six months of unpaid wages from the owner of the Lone Star Lounge, Charlie learns there was only a handshake agreement and promotional ads as proof of employment. Despite the lack of a written contract and her own financial desperation, Charlie sympathizes with Kandy’s looming eviction and agrees to confront the club owner for a ten-percent contingency fee. Determined not to let another woman be exploited, Charlie resolves to visit the lounge and demand justice.
In the heart of West Dallas, the men’s entertainment signs lit up the night, neon lights pointed to “The Scarlet Lounge” and “The Velvet Room.” In the daytime, however, they looked as tacky as their bricked-up storefronts. The black curtain blocking the Lone Star Lounge’s interior from the bright Texas sun fell back into place as Charlie stepped into Kandy Kane’s place of employment. A funk of too-sweet men’s cologne, smoke, and stale alcohol greeted her. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness. Pulsating music and disco lights drew her attention to the stage, where a woman wearing a sequined g-string wiggled to the beat. The early clientele stared up at the dancer with alcohol-induced interest.
A lone bartender leaned against the bar’s counter. He didn’t move, but his gaze traveled from her white go-go boots, up her black leather mini-skirt, to her hot-pink argyle sweater vest, to the bow in her beehive. Before she could speak, he said with a sigh, “Auditions are on Friday from ten to twelve. Come back then.”
“I’m not here for a job. I’m an attorney,” she said, sliding her card across the counter to the man.
He straightened up and glared at her. “I don’t know what their parents said, but we check IDs. They looked legit to us. If they were underage—”
“Not here for that either,” she said, holding up a hand to cut him off. “I need to talk to Vincent Devereaux.”
His shoulders relaxed, and he pointed to a door to the left of the stage with a red “Exit” sign over the jam. “His office is back that way.”
As she passed between the mostly unoccupied chairs along the stage, one man reached out and goosed her behind. “When do you come on, baby?”
In one quick move, she grabbed his wrist and twisted it backward until he yelped. “I don’t.”
She couldn’t help but let a smile flit across her lips when she saw him cradle his arm against his chest. After she had to fend off the managing partner of the law firm, she’d taken self-defense classes in case a lamp wasn’t as handy as it had been that day.
While mirrored walls and upholstered furniture in the lounge’s public area suggested an upscale establishment, Devereaux had spent nothing behind the scenes. Low-wattage fluorescent lights hummed and cast along the dim hallway behind the unmarked door. Charlie’s boots stuck to the grimy linoleum as she squeezed past liquor boxes and old files.
Despite hearing raised voices, she knocked on the office door.
The voices hushed, and after a brief shuffling, the door swung open. A man with an Elvis-style pompadour and sideburns pulled up short, barely avoiding running into her. Turning around, he shouted into the room, “This isn’t over, Vincent.”
“That’s what you think, Billy Ray,” a voice called from the interior.
Billy Ray glared at Charlie. “Good luck, lady.” He raised his voice. “Whatever you want with this man, just know he’s a cheat and a liar.”
Without waiting for a response, he pushed past her and stomped down the hallway. Charlie turned her attention from the retreating man to the one seated in a leather chair behind a scuffed desk. Vincent Devereaux’s eyes were a piercing blue, set above high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. The similarity to her former boss’s inspection put her on edge.
“Vincent Devereaux? Charlene Davidson, attorney at law,” she said, still standing in the doorway. “I’m here on behalf of Candace O’Connor, also known as Kandy Kane. She alleges you have not paid her the wages agreed upon.”
“I see,” he said with a drawl. He steepled his fingers under his chin, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Charlie. “Miss Davidson, I’m a busy man. I don’t have time for baseless accusations or frivolous claims.”
“I assure you, Mr. Devereaux, this is neither baseless nor frivolous. Kandy Kane showed me documentation supporting her claim.”
He leaned forward. “Sometimes, misunderstandings arise. Kandy just doesn’t remember things correctly.”
“I’m here to ensure that my client receives what’s rightfully hers. If we can’t settle this amicably, then I’m afraid legal action will be necessary.”
His chuckle sent a shiver down Charlie’s spine and a review of contract law in her head. “You’re a feisty one, aren’t you? I don’t have time for this. I got to placate my between-set act before he moves to another joint. If Kandy isn’t happy here, she’s free to find another job.”
Without another word, he stood, pushed past her, and entered a door on the right. The door exposed a narrow passage behind the stage, linking the office area to whatever lay on the other side of the stage.
She stood in the dim hallway, taking deep breaths to cool her frustration and anger at Devereaux’s dismissive attitude. Taking one last breath, she turned on her heel, already drafting the lawsuit, and headed back to the bar. If this was his treatment of Kandy, did he treat other dancers the same way?
A dancer in an evening dress had taken over the stage. She was peeling a long glove down her arm. One man leaned forward, holding out a bill toward her. The glove flew into his lap. He sniffed it, put it in his pocket, and held out a few more bills. She leaned over to accept the money while a strap dropped off one shoulder.
Charlie slipped into a seat at the bar. She needed more information. Bartenders always knew everyone’s woes. He’d know if Devereaux was stiffing any of the other dancers. After serving a martini to a woman at the far end of the bar, he set down a napkin in front of Charlie. “Name your poison.”
“Just a Coke. I’m still on the job.”
When he returned with the drink, she asked, “How long have you been working here?”
“A few years,” he said with a shrug. “I’m also the assistant bouncer when needed.”
“That happen often?”
Another shrug. “Now and then.” He met her gaze. “You talk to Vincent?”
“He was arguing with someone named Billy Ray. Billy Ray left, and he took off after him. So, not really,” she said and stirred her drink with her straw. “Is this Billy Ray guy special?”
This time, a snort. “Can’t you read?”
She squinted over his shoulder at a poster. Billy Ray, “The King,” Anderson in a spangled suit, promised a performance that would make you think you were in Vegas.
“How long has he been performing here?”
“Almost as long as me. He does his act in the evening between the girls. Almost every night, a few female fans come for his show.
He slid his gaze over to the middle-aged woman sitting at the end of the bar. Her tight-fitting dress clung to her curves. When she reached out to her glass, Charlie glimpsed a tattoo. A small crown on her wrist. Not many women her age got tattoos.
“He must be pretty good if he’s got a following.”
“I haven’t seen the real thing, but some say he’s better.”
She leaned forward and looked over her shoulder before speaking in a low voice.
“They seemed pretty angry with each other. Are the two always so hot-headed?”
The bartender stared at her for a heartbeat, as if deciding what he should share.
“They go way back. Now that he has a little fan club, Billy Ray thinks he deserves a raise, but a few women drinking cheap cocktails aren’t raising the cash flow. Since Kandy appeared, his relationship with other women has changed.”
The other woman at the bar straightened her back and glided off her stool. “I gotta hit the can,” she said to Hank. “Don’t take my drink.”
“Sure thing, Darlene,” the bartender said.
After the woman passed, Charlie turned her attention back to Hank. “What about Vincent? Did he show any interest in Kandy?”
He glanced at the dancer on the stage. The evening gown was now strapless with a very short skirt. When he turned his attention back to Charlie, he said, “I won’t say he didn’t try. And maybe he succeeded. Everyone wants to please the boss.”
A tremor passed along Charlie’s spine. She knew exactly what could happen if the boss wasn’t pleased. Obviously, Vincent wasn’t pleased with Billy Ray at the moment. She sat back in her seat. Billy Ray might just be a second defendant in her lawsuit against Devereaux. “Any way I can talk to Billy Ray?”
“He has a dressing room in the back. The door on the right, after the ladies’ room, leads to backstage.”
Sliding off the stool, she dropped some of her last bills on the counter.
“Thanks….?”
“Hank.”
To be continued....
Those links again:
Baker Street Irregulars: https://bakerstreetirregulars.com/
On the Shoulder of Giants: Wessex Press
Into the Fire: Amazon
