[guest post by Laurie King]

Laurie R. King’s Knave of Diamonds (June 10) finds the world’s greatest detective—and her husband, Sherlock Holmes—involved in an infamous Irish crime. And up to their necks in hounds…

Dogs are great. I mean, I’m more of a cat person, but dogs can be both good company and valuable partners—fictional ones even more so. (Not that this is a new idea to friends of Dana Stabenow: would there even be a Kate Shugak without Mutt?) Dogs can be weapons, they can be sounding-posts for the protagonist’s musings, they can offer comic relief—sometimes all in the same book. A reader is never quite sure which role a dog will play in any given scene. 

Naturally, anyone familiar with the Sherlock Holmes stories—and with the foreshadowing habits of the mystery writer—will suspect that dogs are going to play a part in Knave of Diamonds as soon as they are mentioned. “Do not worry, Russell,” Holmes says, trying to reassure. “I promise not to let your uncle get eaten by the Hounds of the Mahonys.”

However, that is no guarantee that Russell herself is not going to be fighting for her life as she approaches the house that contains those large, large hounds:

“…voices rose all around me, baying voices and the scrabble of clawed feet, accompanied by a brighter light—a lamp, a man’s voice shouting—Irish: the old man?—and then the dogs were on me.”

I grew up with dogs, but the only one we had when my kids were young was of a breed I fell in love with when we took a trip to visit Irish family. Some of their neighbors raised Irish wolfhounds. A lot of dog. 

The wolfhound as a breed was more or less extinct by the year 1900, 114 years after ridding Eire of its last wolf. It was re-created by deliberate cross-breeding, ending up with a massive, shaggy, amiable creature that has three speeds: slow amble, bouncy trot, and a greyhound sprint that threatens to whirl up the scenery in its wake. The breed is also remarkably deaf to human commands, treating “Sit” as a mild recommendation, although after a third repetition, they may deign to lower their backside with a quiet sigh. (Sight-hounds are designed to do their own thing; they do not win obedience trials.) 

Ours arrived in San Francisco in a hand-built crate on a plane from Dublin, having charmed any number of airline employees along the way: a black, floppy-eared, huge-footed puppy who wanted nothing more than to climb into any available lap, even when she was fully grown. She was great with the kids, treated the cat as a heating pad, would gingerly insert her muzzle into the prickly raspberry vines to tongue out quarts of fruit, and left my tables and chairs thoroughly decorated with tooth-marks. 

She also died far too young, as large dogs tend to. 

And her name?

Her official breeder’s name was Zillah of Callaighstown—Zillah, meaning “shadow” in Hebrew, because of her unusual color. But that was a mouthful, so instead, we chose a new name, that of an Irish mother goddess.

We called her… Dana.

Knave of Diamonds, the 19^th Russell & Holmes adventure, publishes June 10. Laurie has a Poisoned Pen livestreamed conversation with Barbara Peters and Leslie S Klinger on June 7, here. And if you pre-order a copy of the book from the Pen, you get a bonus art card AND a bonus short story. Excerpt, order links, and free story registration here,

#thiswritinglife Chatter Knave of Diamonds laurie r. king Mary Russell sherlock holmes