I had a murder mystery dream last night. This is unusual. When I wake up from a vivid dream, it’s more often a science fiction scenario. I’ve scribbled down several pages of notes on those dreams in the past, in case I want to use them to kick off a story some day. A dream is what inspired Circle of Light, the first book I sold and the title that won the Holt Medallion Award in the paranormal romance category.

So what was last night’s dream about? My dog got loose. I ran out the door after her, holding her leash that was more like a rope. Along the way, I realized I’d left my cell phone home. Thinking I’d be back soon anyway, I raced after the pooch. Instead of my cream colored poodle, she was a hairless scrawny pink thing. She charged through the streets with me following in her wake. We ran and ran until I got completely lost. Sometimes I grabbed hold of her, but the way back was treacherous, and I needed to use the leash as a safety rope. Tucking her under my arm, I grasped the rope as a lifeline in several instances as we forded streams and crevices and fallen logs in forests.

We ended up in a strange town. Pooch jumped from my arms and ran off again. I trailed her into a building that was under renovation. She scooted up the stairs. Up and up she climbed, from bottom level all the way to the attic. I’d hoped there would be someone who could snag her for me, but the place was deserted. I reached the top and caught sight of her. Whipping my leash/rope into a lasso, I flung it toward her. Instead, it landed in a crack and got stuck. When I yanked with all my strength to free the end, a wood panel snapped opened. My rope went slack, but so did the body that fell out from the trapdoor.

A body! It was a woman, tied up with a cord around her neck. She wasn’t dead, but nearly so, struggling for a breath. My blood turned to ice, but I still had the presence of mind to loosen the cord so she could breathe. Before I could untie her, however, I heard footsteps downstairs. Heavy footsteps. Omigod. Whoever had done this to her might be returning.

I hid as a man trudged up the stairs. While he was hovering over the woman, I dashed for freedom. My last regretful glance lingered on my dog, poised on the plank floor with her big eyes watching me. I couldn’t worry about her now. Hopefully, she’d find her way home.

I dashed from the building without knowing if that poor woman would survive or not. I had to get help. Outside on the village main street, I pleaded with passersby to use a cell phone. "Please call 911!" I yelled. "There’s a murderer after me." I got a lot of strange looks but no offers of help. They must have thought I was a kook. The killer was a tall hulk with dark hair, so tall that he stood above everyone else. He’d be easy to spot. Not so much his husky friend who he picked up along the way to join the chase.

Somewhere on the outskirts of town, I came upon a field where I spotted a military troop practicing for a parade. They were just now breaking up and heading toward a building on top of a hill. They could get help for me! My heart thumping, I pounded after them, disappointed to learn they were only just a legion of locals in uniform. Nonetheless, their organization might have a phone available in their building. I went inside the lobby, but someone was already using the public telephone. I pleaded for help, my face blanching when I glanced out the window and saw the heads of my opponents clearing the rise. Besides meeting rooms, the building had a polished wood bar with gleaming glassware. The bartender lady smiled at me and told me not to worry, that they would hide me while summoning help. The patrons, men standing in clusters with drinks in hand, nodded in agreement. Reassured that I’d finally reached a place of safety, I woke up.

Why am I telling you this dream? Because like my other vivid ones, this could be the springboard for a story. I’ve been thinking of setting my next mystery in a spooky old theater. Perhaps it has recently opened after renovations that aren’t quite finished.

What if my sleuth stumbles upon a body like the woman in the attic? Someone not quite dead but nearly strangled. What if my heroine runs outside to summon the police, but when they arrive, the body is gone? Was the woman dead or alive? Did she escape on her own, or was the killer there all along? Did he spot my sleuth? Who was the woman?

For the suspects, I’ll throw in a troupe of community actors. Perhaps there is a visiting diva who is starring in the latest production. Toss in the people in her entourage, the theater crew, and the construction workers. Voilà. A new mystery is born.

I hope you had a chance to check out my interview at Ask Wendy--The Query Queen. If not, please visit and leave a comment.  And come back here tomorrow when Wendy is my guest.