Darkly Comic Thrillers with Rich Leder

It's a Mystery Podcast

Murder with a touch of the absurd. When Rich Leder finished reading his excerpt from his new book, Cooking for Cannibals, I realized his writing reminded me of Elmore Leonard's. As the title of this podcast episode implies, Rich's writing has a touch of the comedic, but not in a har-har way. It's more like a dash of salt added to a very spicy dish. In the interview we talk about writing screenplays in Hollywood, writing 'high concept' books, and his other mystery series, the crime caper Kate McCall books. Today's show is supported by my patrons at Patreon. Thank you! When you become a patron for as little as $1 a month you receive a short mystery story each and every month. And the rewards for those who love mystery stories go up from there! Learn more and become a part of my community of readers at www.Patreon.com/alexandraamor This week's mystery author Rich Leder has been a working writer for more than three decades. His credits include 19 produced movies—television films for CBS, Lifetime, and Hallmark and feature films for Lionsgate, Paramount Pictures, Tri-Star Pictures, Longridge Productions, and Left Bank Films—and six novels for Laugh Riot Press. Learn more about Rich Leder and all this books at RichLeder.com Press play (above) to listen to the show, or read the transcript below. Remember you can also subscribe to the show on Apple Podcasts. And listen on Stitcher, Android, Google Podcasts, TuneIn, and Spotify. Excerpt from Cooking for Cannibals Chapter One: A MODERN MARVEL OF MEDICINAL MANUFACTURING It was an unprecedented feat of pharmaceutical engineering with a kiss from Mother Nature and a whisper from God. Carrie could tell without technical measure, with her naked eye, with the touch of her hand, that the rats were younger this week than last, younger today than yesterday. There was indisputable clinical corroboration to authenticate and validate her professional observations. The most rigorous laboratory methodologies had been employed. The results had been questioned and challenged time and again. Every test, trial, study, and calculation confirmed the conclusion. The aging process in all nine rats had been definitively and profoundly reversed. The drug worked. Carrie stood hidden in a dark corner of Lab No. 3 holding a rolling pin. Her knuckles were white from choking the handle. Her heart was beating like the bass drum she’d played for a short time in the New Brunswick High marching band back in New Jersey when she was fourteen (an unpleasant memory even now), all those years and three thousand miles ago. If she didn’t keep her mouth closed, she thought, her heart would pound its way up her throat and shoot across the lab floor. In all her thirty-five years, she’d never hit anyone on the head with a rolling pin. Never broken the law. Not a speeding ticket. Not a gum wrapper on the ground. Panic was a reasonable reaction given the circumstances. Shortness of breath, rapid pulse, and excessive perspiration were expected outcomes. Amplified adrenaline wreaking emotional chaos and intellectual havoc was a predictable and projected response. But Jesus Christ, she hadn’t planned on being such a nervy mess. To steady herself, she focused on her alibi. Technically, she wasn’t here. Her car was parked in a lot on the other side of the San Fernando Valley. Witnesses had seen her with a beer in the Foxfire Room in Valley Village. There was a bartender who would confirm it. She’d used a colleague’s card to scan her way back into the lab. If anyone was here with Old Tom, the security guard who worked Wednesday nights after hours, it was Stuart Langston, Alsiko’s biostatistician, the smarmy math creep no one liked. To calm herself, she focused on the courage it took to do what she was doing, how far she’d come in her own personal development to be brave enough to commit this kind of compassionate crime when her career and lif...