Article 1: Bringing Drake Marlow to Life
One of the questions I’m asked most often is where the inspiration for Drake Marlow comes from. The answer is a little complicated because Drake wasn’t based on any one detective. He emerged from years of reading classic mystery fiction, studying Florida history, and wondering what Palm Beach must have felt like during the difficult years of Prohibition followed by the Great Depression.
The Palm Beaches on South Florida’s east coast of the 1920s and 1930s was a fascinating contradiction. On one side stood Palm Beach, an island of glittering mansions, elegant hotels, and wealthy families who still tried to maintain the illusion of prosperity despite the economic hardships facing much of the country. Just a bridge across the Intracoastal Waterway was West Palm Beach with its struggling neighborhoods, unemployed workers, smugglers, bootleggers, and desperate people trying to survive however they could. That contrast created the perfect backdrop for a private investigator.
Drake Marlow lives in the middle of those worlds. He’s not wealthy, polished, or politically connected. He’s a savvy, working detective trying to earn a living while navigating a town where money and influence often matter more than truth. That tension lies at the heart of the series in Della, the first book in the series.
Writing historical fiction requires a balancing act between storytelling and accuracy. I spend a great deal of time researching details that may only appear briefly in the books. Street names, weather patterns, businesses, automobiles, restaurants, hotels, clothing styles, and even the wording of newspaper headlines all help shape the atmosphere. I want readers to feel as though they’ve stepped directly into 1930s Palm Beach.
Some of the most enjoyable research involves uncovering forgotten pieces of Florida history like Chattahoochee, Florida’s mental hospital that plays a role in the first book. Many readers are surprised to learn how rapidly South Florida was changing during the era. New developments appeared almost overnight during the land boom years, only to struggle after the crash. Aviation was expanding. Smuggling routes operated along the coast. Political corruption and organized crime quietly thrived beneath the surface glamour.
The challenge is deciding how much history to include. A novel should never feel like a textbook. My goal is to weave historical details naturally into the story so readers absorb the atmosphere without feeling overwhelmed by exposition. Sometimes a single detail—a jazz tune drifting from a hotel ballroom, the smell of salt air near the docks, or the sound of a seaplane overhead—can do more to transport readers than pages of explanation.
I’m also careful to preserve the tone of the classic detective stories that inspired the series. Drake is observant, stubborn, and occasionally cynical, but he still believes that right and wrong matter. In many modern mysteries, the lines between heroes and villains are intentionally blurred. I prefer the older tradition where a detective may be flawed but still fights to uncover the truth.
Perhaps the greatest reward of writing the Drake Marlow mysteries is the opportunity to revisit a version of Florida that no longer exists. The world of the 1930s was imperfect, dangerous, and often harsh, but it was also filled with energy and possibility. Every time I sit down to write, I have the chance to walk those streets again through Drake’s eyes.
And somewhere in the shadows of old Palm Beach, another mystery is always waiting
