Ask the Author: John A. Daly
Answered Questions (3)
John A. Daly
Hi Jodell. It's hard to nail down just one town. Winston is kind of a composite of multiple mountain towns in Colorado. It includes elements of Frisco, Red Feather, Glenwood Springs, Georgetown, Lyons, and even Estes Park.
I chose to go with a fictitious town to allow for some creativity in how the community was spread out.
I chose to go with a fictitious town to allow for some creativity in how the community was spread out.
John A. Daly
It was actually a real-life mystery (involving me) from years ago that inspired the opening scene of my second novel, Blood Trade.
One night around midnight, I was driving back home from Fort Collins, Colorado when I came upon a car wreck. A single automobile had driven off the side of an off-ramp by the interstate, and had landed, grill first, at the bottom of a hill.
There was lots of smoke and steam in the air, and I was the first person who had stopped to help (there was hardly any traffic). After parking my car on the shoulder of the road, I approached the crest of the hill (prepared to descend down it to check on the driver). That's when a different car that I hadn't previously seen (that was parked on the opposite shoulder) flashed its headlights at me to get my attention.
"Don't go down there!" I heard a man's voice shout from the parked car. "That's guy's nuts!"
Confused, I walked over to him. "What do you mean?" I asked.
The man had long, curly hair and a baseball cap. "He was driving like an idiot," he said. "Weaving all over the place. He's lucky he didn't get somebody killed! I've already called the police. They're on their way."
"But is he okay?" I asked, looking down the hill at the crashed vehicle. "Could he be injured?"
"I don't know," he answered. "And I don't care. It's best to let the police sort it out."
Within seconds, someone emerged from the crashed car, and was quickly jogging up the hill toward us. He was hard to make out in the dark, but he was moving pretty quickly.
The man I was talking to, seeing the figure approaching, suddenly panicked. He swore, started his car, and peeled off onto the road, leaving me alone with the advancing stranger.
At this point, I began to suspect that I had come upon the aftermath of an incident of road rage between the two men, which might explain why the other man had flipped out and left.
Still, I wasn't sure. All I knew is that I was now standing alone next to a large, heavy-breathing individual who was demanding to know who I was. I explained that I had seen his car at the bottom of the hill, and had pulled over to help.
My words didn't seem to be sinking in with him, but when I told him that the other driver had called the police on his cell-phone, the man suddenly got very worried.
"Can you give me a drive to Denver?" he asked me (Denver was over 50 miles away).
I knew then that the man didn't plan on sticking around for the police to arrive (never a good sign). Had he stolen the car?
More concerning was that it didn't seem like he was going to take 'no' for an answer. I tried, but he kept insisting that I give him a ride. Being that he outweighed me by about 50 pounds, coupled with the fact that I was unarmed and hadn't been in a fight since junior-high, I wasn't crazy about the idea of a physical altercation.
With my mind racing a mile a minute, an idea soon jumped out. "I have tow cables in the back of my car," I told him. "Let me try and pull your car out of the ditch."
Before he could respond, I turned and began walking (at a calm pace) across the street and down the road to my car. I dug my hand into my pocket to retrieve my keys, acting as if I was going to open my trunk. "Wait right here," I added.
Only, he didn't wait. He began following me. And as I picked up my pace, so did he. Thus, I launched into a full sprint. I had thankfully left my car unlocked, so when I reached it, I was able to quickly slide inside, slam the door shut, and lock it. I cranked the engine (just as he reached the car) and took off down the road (like the other driver had a minute or two earlier). My heart was pounding a hole through my chest. My pursuer yelled and snarled at me as I drove away. Through my rear-view mirror, I watched him chase after me on foot briefly, before giving up.
As I merged onto the Interstate, I saw the other driver's car, pulled over to the side of the road again. I thought about stopping, getting out, and giving him a piece of my mind over abandoning me, but I decided, at that point, that I didn't need any more drama that night. I kept south on the Interstate and drove home.
I checked the police reports in Fort Collins over the next few days, and found no mention of the incident. Nothing about a stolen or abandoned car. Nothing at all about the event. I've always wondered what exactly had happened that night, prior to me arriving on the scene. Was there some kind of personal grudge between the two men that had spiraled out of control? Were the police even called? Who were those two guys?
I never found the answers, but I tucked the memory away, and used it years later to create the first chapter of my novel, Blood Trade (book #2 in the Sean Coleman thriller series). It really helped set the scene, and the confrontation between the three characters is, in my opinion, pretty chilling.
#MysteryWeek
One night around midnight, I was driving back home from Fort Collins, Colorado when I came upon a car wreck. A single automobile had driven off the side of an off-ramp by the interstate, and had landed, grill first, at the bottom of a hill.
There was lots of smoke and steam in the air, and I was the first person who had stopped to help (there was hardly any traffic). After parking my car on the shoulder of the road, I approached the crest of the hill (prepared to descend down it to check on the driver). That's when a different car that I hadn't previously seen (that was parked on the opposite shoulder) flashed its headlights at me to get my attention.
"Don't go down there!" I heard a man's voice shout from the parked car. "That's guy's nuts!"
Confused, I walked over to him. "What do you mean?" I asked.
The man had long, curly hair and a baseball cap. "He was driving like an idiot," he said. "Weaving all over the place. He's lucky he didn't get somebody killed! I've already called the police. They're on their way."
"But is he okay?" I asked, looking down the hill at the crashed vehicle. "Could he be injured?"
"I don't know," he answered. "And I don't care. It's best to let the police sort it out."
Within seconds, someone emerged from the crashed car, and was quickly jogging up the hill toward us. He was hard to make out in the dark, but he was moving pretty quickly.
The man I was talking to, seeing the figure approaching, suddenly panicked. He swore, started his car, and peeled off onto the road, leaving me alone with the advancing stranger.
At this point, I began to suspect that I had come upon the aftermath of an incident of road rage between the two men, which might explain why the other man had flipped out and left.
Still, I wasn't sure. All I knew is that I was now standing alone next to a large, heavy-breathing individual who was demanding to know who I was. I explained that I had seen his car at the bottom of the hill, and had pulled over to help.
My words didn't seem to be sinking in with him, but when I told him that the other driver had called the police on his cell-phone, the man suddenly got very worried.
"Can you give me a drive to Denver?" he asked me (Denver was over 50 miles away).
I knew then that the man didn't plan on sticking around for the police to arrive (never a good sign). Had he stolen the car?
More concerning was that it didn't seem like he was going to take 'no' for an answer. I tried, but he kept insisting that I give him a ride. Being that he outweighed me by about 50 pounds, coupled with the fact that I was unarmed and hadn't been in a fight since junior-high, I wasn't crazy about the idea of a physical altercation.
With my mind racing a mile a minute, an idea soon jumped out. "I have tow cables in the back of my car," I told him. "Let me try and pull your car out of the ditch."
Before he could respond, I turned and began walking (at a calm pace) across the street and down the road to my car. I dug my hand into my pocket to retrieve my keys, acting as if I was going to open my trunk. "Wait right here," I added.
Only, he didn't wait. He began following me. And as I picked up my pace, so did he. Thus, I launched into a full sprint. I had thankfully left my car unlocked, so when I reached it, I was able to quickly slide inside, slam the door shut, and lock it. I cranked the engine (just as he reached the car) and took off down the road (like the other driver had a minute or two earlier). My heart was pounding a hole through my chest. My pursuer yelled and snarled at me as I drove away. Through my rear-view mirror, I watched him chase after me on foot briefly, before giving up.
As I merged onto the Interstate, I saw the other driver's car, pulled over to the side of the road again. I thought about stopping, getting out, and giving him a piece of my mind over abandoning me, but I decided, at that point, that I didn't need any more drama that night. I kept south on the Interstate and drove home.
I checked the police reports in Fort Collins over the next few days, and found no mention of the incident. Nothing about a stolen or abandoned car. Nothing at all about the event. I've always wondered what exactly had happened that night, prior to me arriving on the scene. Was there some kind of personal grudge between the two men that had spiraled out of control? Were the police even called? Who were those two guys?
I never found the answers, but I tucked the memory away, and used it years later to create the first chapter of my novel, Blood Trade (book #2 in the Sean Coleman thriller series). It really helped set the scene, and the confrontation between the three characters is, in my opinion, pretty chilling.
#MysteryWeek
John A. Daly
I grew up around a number of people who I would consider their own worst enemies. They were good people, but they drank too much, made poor decisions, and had a hard time learning from their mistakes. I thought it would be interesting to incorporate those traits in a protagonist, and use the story to show his evolution into someone better.
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