Lynn Tavernier

I grew up in the mill town of Woonsocket, Rhode Island. My family owned a locally renowned family style chicken restaurant that had its start in the early 1900's as the Italo Franco Bocce Club. 

Our clientele was a fabulous mix of the everyday man, the politician and the mobster—couldn't have been better. I attended Mt. St. Charles Academy then the Berkshire School and Sarah Lawrence College. 

After graduation, I knew I wanted to write, but my parents convinced me writing wasn’t a job. I followed in their footsteps and trained in restaurant management then opened Chez Pascal, a French bistro on Providence’s East Side. Still, the itch never went away. Late in the evening, with a few groups of diners still nibbling on Tarte aux Pommes and drinking the last of their wine, I would pass the time watching, listening and playing my version of Clue. My Clue involved inventing backstories and motives and contriving creative murder weapons for the villains and red herrings I imagined were dining in my restaurant. I then spent twenty years selling residential real estate. Not much changed. My most pressing concern for my buyer clients when assessing a property was where on earth they’d hide the bodies.