Holiday Foreplay with Casey Daniels

Don’t believe a word of it. I mean, really, you’re going to listen to a bunch of strangers? Instead of me, Pepper Martin?

Come on, Santa. You know I’ve done a lot of good in my time. After all, I’m the world’s only private investigator for the dead. Not that I’m happy about it or anything. Still, you can’t deny I’ve helped plenty of spirits move on to wherever it is they go when they leave here. And found justice for every single one of them.

After all that, you’re going to hold my little adventure to the great Southwest against me?

OK, yeah, all right . . . I did steal a body from a mausoleum at Garden View Cemetery where I used to work. And yes, it was the body of Chester Goodshot Gomez, a famous Indian who once starred in Wild West shows and back in the 1800s, died in Cleveland and was buried here.

But I can explain!

I have this friend named Dan, you see, and Dan, he got himself kidnaped. The bad guys told me that the only way I could keep Dan alive was if I dug up Goodshot and took him (well, his bones, anyway) to New Mexico.

Sounds simple enough. Except that Goodshot’s ghost came along for the ride and I ended up liking the guy and feeling bad about what I was doing with his earthly remains. And then the bones got stolen and bodies started dropping like presents down the chimney!

Honest, Santa, you can’t blame me for any of that. In fact, if you need to find out what really happened and how I did my best, you can read all about it in “Wild, Wild Death.” The book won’t hit bookstore shelves until January 3, and yes, I know that’s after the holidays, but trust me, it will explain everything. You’ll see that I’ve been very good, and I really do deserve that pair of delicious cowboy boots I’ve asked you to bring.

Thank you, Santa, and Merry Christmas.

Pepper Martin

PS, that whole thing about Jesse Alvarez, the tribal police chief I met out in New Mexico and us being naughty together . . . just pretend you didn’t read that part!