The Characters

Oliver Buckey had the name and look of a one-horse-town Sheriff. He looked the part of Sheriff. He wore those reflector shades and had a 44 waist, although he bragged that his belt was a 38, just like his pocket gun.

Eden Whitloe had been a Deputy longer than he liked to think about. When the Sheriff appointed him ten years ago—unbeknownst to him, at his father’s request—he was fresh out of college and ambitious only to follow the path of least resistance.

Shele Ocevan:  Eden had dreams that were of the Shele-induced type before, but they ran to those of the wetter variety. Oh God, she crossed her legs. Green eyes. Not bluish-green or greenish-brown, but absolute emerald green. She wasn’t thin, but thin enough. And she wasn’t pretty. She was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous.

Amara McClure: When she came to the door, she—honest to God—wore a Norma Desmond turban like something from Sunset Boulevard. She looked just like a plumper version of Norma and Eden began to wonder if Erich Von Stroheim—Norma’s chauffeur Max—was lurking somewhere.

Aingeal Farrel was a big, burly, redhead—hair like Carrot Top, bright orange-red—with lots of freckles. Picture a red plaid flannel shirt, corduroy pants, and hiking boots, with a face like Abe Lincoln, mole and all. That’s Aingeal. She could handle anything they could throw at her, and she would handle it before breakfast.”

David Quinn a sort of latter-day Dennis Hopper or a present-day Woody Harrelson. He was a flower child who had dropped out during the ’70s, then dropped out of the counter-culture to become, more or less, a hermit—damned old fart ex-hippie.