Charles Cutter thinks like a fly fisher in new legal thriller

Quinn Shepherd was the best guide on the Au Sable River until he’s found at the bottom of the river with his boat’s anchor chain wrapped around his ankle. Lizzie, his wife, is devastated and is left alone to raise Josh, their six-year-old son.

His drowning was ruled accidental, but a year later new evidence is found, and Lizzie is arrested for murdering Quinn.

“The Gray Drake” is written by author Charles Cutter, a pseudonym for East Lansing attorney R. Charles McLarvy, and is the third legal thriller featuring down-on-his-heels attorney Burr Lafayette. The third installation is a complex, engaging and suspenseful mystery centered on fly fishing on the legendary Au Sable River.

LINK (via: City Pulse)

One thought on “Charles Cutter thinks like a fly fisher in new legal thriller

  1. Poor Lizzie. Anyone who knows anything about a modern, Blue Ribbon-type or “highly desirable” Better Sorts-only (join Us, but do Keep Off if you don’t …. or else…) trout river knows that there are more Mansons Per Mile on them than anywhere else on the Planet. I know or have known streams where it’s Agent on Agent, Outfitter on Outfitter, Guide on Guide, Nazi Guides United Guide Against All Expletive Deleted Clients, Serial Same Clients Returning the Favo(ur) to at back at such Expletive Deleted, Blind Leading The Blind THEM!, Old Baitfishers Against Preppy New Flyboys with a forest of rods and a clearfell of talent, and infinite non-Waltonian Piscator variations on all of these.

    Total in- and on-river carnage, in fact. The blissfully now largely untroubled by Propers Anglers trout have taken to feeding on all the floating bodies, coming up and closely inspecting then contemptuously rejecting latest model, top-end Brands because they offer them no real sustenance. “It’s a complete jungle in here these days, Paul” one of them, a trout who could think like a human but didn’t like what she found herself thinking that way whenever she did, said to me back in the summer.: “All we want are a few real mayfly and cased caddis … the odd, old, size-12 hackled, not some #22 micro-genetic parachute, Royal Coachman for a sporting tussle dessert, perhaps … And as for all the guided goons killing us with their glamourshots and GoPros…. Why don’t you write a book about it and state our case for us…”

    “I value my life and my sense of humo(ur) much too much,” I told her (a really nice, fully finned, beautifully marked and perfecly formed 17-incher, a Real Doll in fact).

    “Figures.” she said, then very eye-catchingly swam off.

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