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Once A Thief
Ramey receives a big surprise at her doorstep when her uncles decide to stay with her after their stint in prison. They were busted many years ago for a bank robbery- which caused a rift in her family. Since they have nowhere to go and nothing to do, Ramey lets the geriatric felons stay with herand eventually gets them involved in her home decorating business. But it doesn't take long for trouble to catch up with her quirky relatives again when an old jail buddy of the uncles- Orville Shifty Falcone- is found dead in front of Ramey's house.
- GenresMystery
400 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published May 1, 2006
2 people are currently reading
60 people want to read
About the author
Suzann Ledbetter
25 books18 followersFifteen or twenty minutes of intense Website surfing suggests that biographical segments are usually devoted to former vocations, titles published and awards won. The latter two categories seem redundant to additional electronic buttonry labeled Book List, to homepages advertising current tomes, and mentions elsewhere of honors bestowed, humbly received and treasured in perpetuity.
As for the former, having not been gainfully employed in return for weekly paychecks since 1976, I assume a brief, intervening stint as a water-filled shoe insole salesperson doesn't rank right up there with the legions of doctors-, lawyers-, educators-, captains of industry-, or CIA operatives-turned-scribes.
Second to vocational pursuits are avocations, which for others range from gardening, needle-arts, molecular biology and NASCAR fanatacism to scuba-diving, astronomy, world travel, and running for miles absent a pack of rabid wolves snapping at one's heels.
The fiction writer in me yearns to invent hobbies of that ilk, as one would attribute to a novel's protagonist to make him or her interesting. The nonfiction side advises the truth, or an interpretation of it based on available research. My inner humorist struggles to keep a straight face.
Henry David Thoreau disparaged the unexamined life as unworthy of sustained respiration. Valid or not, I'll give it a whirl . . ..
When I'm not writing or speaking about writing, I'm either reading, or asleep. I adore my husband and most of the time, our children. Our basic 3bd./2 ba. home is shared with two greyhounds, two fat, hirsute cats and thousands of books--the majority shelved and probably having a scoliotic effect on the floor joists and foundation.
At work or during recess, I drink too much coffee, alternating with room-temperature Cokes slugged straight from the bottles. Caffeine, for me, is its own food group and when focused on what I'm writing, suffices for the chewable variety I'm too distracted or lazy to prepare. Habitual meal-skipping isn't recommended, but in theory, should be a literal lean cuisine. Alas, it is not.
Finishing a book, fiction or non-, induces a compulsion to rearrange the furniture. Or move. Why, I'll leave to mental health professionals. I suspect it seems easier to Dumpster the crap accumulated over the longish haul and transport items dear to my heart somewhere new and unsullied, than to clean what months of neglect hath wrought.
All in all, I suppose sedate is a nice term for this life as lived and breathed. From an exterior perspective, boring might be more appropos. An observer couldn't comprehend any better than I can explain what it is to ply a keyboard and metamorphose into whomever I want--real or imagined--residing wherever I so desire, in whatever era I choose. For richer, for poorer, for better, worse and downright tragic, until deadlines do us part.
If life and a livelihood get any better than that, I'm not aware of it. Nor, upon fleet examination, would I trade a minute of mine for someone else's better paid, cooler, infinitely more exciting and nutritious one.
In many respects, being a writer is a job, like any other. Except it isn't what I do. It's who I am.
As for the former, having not been gainfully employed in return for weekly paychecks since 1976, I assume a brief, intervening stint as a water-filled shoe insole salesperson doesn't rank right up there with the legions of doctors-, lawyers-, educators-, captains of industry-, or CIA operatives-turned-scribes.
Second to vocational pursuits are avocations, which for others range from gardening, needle-arts, molecular biology and NASCAR fanatacism to scuba-diving, astronomy, world travel, and running for miles absent a pack of rabid wolves snapping at one's heels.
The fiction writer in me yearns to invent hobbies of that ilk, as one would attribute to a novel's protagonist to make him or her interesting. The nonfiction side advises the truth, or an interpretation of it based on available research. My inner humorist struggles to keep a straight face.
Henry David Thoreau disparaged the unexamined life as unworthy of sustained respiration. Valid or not, I'll give it a whirl . . ..
When I'm not writing or speaking about writing, I'm either reading, or asleep. I adore my husband and most of the time, our children. Our basic 3bd./2 ba. home is shared with two greyhounds, two fat, hirsute cats and thousands of books--the majority shelved and probably having a scoliotic effect on the floor joists and foundation.
At work or during recess, I drink too much coffee, alternating with room-temperature Cokes slugged straight from the bottles. Caffeine, for me, is its own food group and when focused on what I'm writing, suffices for the chewable variety I'm too distracted or lazy to prepare. Habitual meal-skipping isn't recommended, but in theory, should be a literal lean cuisine. Alas, it is not.
Finishing a book, fiction or non-, induces a compulsion to rearrange the furniture. Or move. Why, I'll leave to mental health professionals. I suspect it seems easier to Dumpster the crap accumulated over the longish haul and transport items dear to my heart somewhere new and unsullied, than to clean what months of neglect hath wrought.
All in all, I suppose sedate is a nice term for this life as lived and breathed. From an exterior perspective, boring might be more appropos. An observer couldn't comprehend any better than I can explain what it is to ply a keyboard and metamorphose into whomever I want--real or imagined--residing wherever I so desire, in whatever era I choose. For richer, for poorer, for better, worse and downright tragic, until deadlines do us part.
If life and a livelihood get any better than that, I'm not aware of it. Nor, upon fleet examination, would I trade a minute of mine for someone else's better paid, cooler, infinitely more exciting and nutritious one.
In many respects, being a writer is a job, like any other. Except it isn't what I do. It's who I am.
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Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews
November 17, 2024
If you want to just escape into a fun situation comedy ... this book is for you. – Yes there is a murder to be solved, but that is really only the excuse for the crazy fun. Ramey Burke lost both parents and her husband within 3 years and now after starting to date again she had just broken up with her boyfriend. Her life was turned upside down when, without notice, her two elderly uncles Ed and Archie and Archie’s wife arrived on her doorstep needing a place to stay. The three had been in prison for the past 34 years –on a life sentence– for a series of bank robberies years before. Now in their 70s, they had all been released because of prison overcrowding. Oh, Ramey’s mother’s maiden name was Dillinger and to make things a bit more interesting, her father had been the Chief of Police. The murder victim was the 4th member of the “Other Dillinger gang” (as the newspapers had dubbed them). He was stabbed to death with an ice pick when he arrived at Ramey’s home just shortly after the uncles arrived. Did one of the uncles kill him? – I think you can see the possibilities of crazy situations that pop up here. ...... This is certainly not serious reading, but a fun escape if you want to just relax and let the story unwind.
October 1, 2017
Great fun-a hoot of a mystery!
Want to read
February 16, 2023Stopped on pg 23
November 12, 2007
This is separater from the series, but also entertaining.
dnf
September 6, 2016dnf - did not finish. I used to like these books but couldn't get into this one. I may try again later.
September 2, 2012
This falls in the genre of "old folks, aren't they a hoot?" I liked this book enough to read it several times. There are some funny situations. It is a light & easy mystery.
June 13, 2015
A fun cozy!
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews