Suny Davis, McLean Jacobson's precocious protagonist, goes to an early college in New England, an early college being a small college for students of high school-age who are ready to do college-level work.

Oh, that McLean Jacobson! What an imagination! Early college? Stuff and nonsense!

Oh - says McLean – but it's true.

Tucked away in the Berkshire Hills of Massachusetts is just such an institution, Simon's Rock College of Bard, and it is peopled with just such a population of young – well, we won't say geniuses – but, young people who spend way much more of their time thinking deeply and profoundly than say – your average golden retriever.

How did you find such a peculiar setting for your novels, McLean?

Ah, dare I tell? Yes, I can see by the look on your... well, I can see that the truth must be known.

McLean was one of THEM.

Yes, it's true. McLean Jacobson attended early college. At the ripe, young age of fifteen, to be exact. Now you know why her books are so damned good.

She's a genius!

Not really.

Actually, while at Simon's Rock, McLean did not study creative writing, or mystery fiction, or how to create romantic tension – well, maybe a little of that. She was a language and studio art major, taking French and Arabic and a slew of design courses, because - just like any other fifteen year old - she dreamed of being a fashion designer or a translator for the UN – take your pick.

She did neither. After a year at her early college, McLean applied to Parson's School of Design in NYC, got on the waiting list (which she always suspected was just a way of keeping rejected, sensitive artists from slitting their wrists) and then decided that NYC wasn't the right place for her. She took a few courses here and there and was courted by the National Security Administration and the U.S. Army for her knowledge of Arabic and apparent aptitude for languages, but decided to set her sights higher.

McLean was to elope with a serviceman and marry in a 110 degree chapel in El Paso, Texas.

This she did with the fortitude and determination that set her apart from the other half dozen Army brides dripping with sweat as they were "given away" by large and scary drill sergeants.

From there McLean did what all Army wives do who find themselves stationed overseas and unemployed at nineteen. She got pregnant and had her first child.

After returning to the States, and popping out two more puppies, McLean returned to school, this time at Goucher College in Baltimore, Maryland, where she studied Creative Writing, right?

(buzzer sounds)

No, so sorry, you are incorrect.

Psychology.

But wait, there's more.

McLean went to petition to graduate her last semester and was told she needed three more credits to graduate. Knowing she couldn't squeeze anything very taxing into her already overwhelming schedule, she decided to take a night course through which she could skate.

Fiction Workshop.

You see, McLean was the perpetual closet author of a multitude of unfinished novels. She need only brush off the first few chapters of a couple, revise and reprint them and hand them in. She did this for the first few assignments, and then wrote a handful of other good pieces that semester.

But it was the first, brushed-off, revised and reprinted chapters of an unfinished novel that caught the fancy of her professor, Madison Smartt Bell, a National Book Award finalist, and man of... ahem... high literary perception. He told McLean that, if she ever finished writing the novel – a fine piece of literary suspense – he would show it to his literary agents.

Now, the last thing you want to say to a graduating psychology major with plans for graduate school and a career is "Finish your novel."

McLean ditched plans for graduate school and a career in psychology and took two years to complete the manuscript. Madison was true to his word, dear man. His agents considered the manuscript (one liked it, the other wasn't as sure) and decided to pass. But the next agent queried took the piece on. McLean worked with her for a year, then they parted ways, novel unsold.

McLean read way too much Elizabeth Peters over the course of the next months and slowly, a character and voice far different from that of her first manuscript emerged.

Suny Davis sprang, fully formed, from McLean's creative little head.

Ever a fan of Elizabeth Peters, McLean was pleased and excited to find that Ms. Peters (also a woman of many pseudonyms) was to be honored with a Lifetime Achievement Award from Malice Domestic, a mystery writers and readers organization devoted to the traditional mystery . McLean went to the convention and there, she found out about the Malice Domestic Grant for Unpublished Writers.

A contest for an unfinished manuscript? If ever there were a contest suited to the flighty, disorganized... I mean, suited to the quaint working style of McLean Jacobson, this was it.

And so it was.

McLean shipped off the first three chapters of what was then called Hypothesis for Murder (and subsequently re-titled Extrasensory Deception) and received a most pleasing phone call for her efforts. She had won the 2004 Malice Domestic Grant. The chairman of the grants committee, if he doesn't mind being quoted here in these pages, said "It was a clear choice among other submissions" and that Suny Davis possessed "a truly fresh voice."

McLean was tickled and danced heartily in her living room with her children. Then she buckled down and finished writing the blessed thing.

And so it goes. Extrasensory Deception is complete. Suny Davis is destined to grace the pages of at least six additional books. And McLean even has proposals to write Suny's earlier adventures for the middle grade and young adult markets.

Meanwhile, McLean Jacobson toils away at her desk, tucked up in her third-floor attic office in Columbia, Maryland. She is occasionally interrupted by... her three meddlesome children who demand to be fed and driven around in a mini-van... her dogs, Teddy Bear (recently deceased, poor thing) and Pongo, who persist in requiring long walks where they do little, if anything, productive... and by her husband, who believes his job as the Director of Baltimore City Police's information systems is nearly as important as McLean's writing, but only because it pays the bills.

And speaking of paying the bills, McLean is currently available for speaking engagements. Each session includes a talk of approximately forty minutes, complete with audio/visual presentation and handouts, and a discussion/Q&A session of approximately 20 minutes.  For a list of suggested topics, please click here.