Welcome to The Lavender Palms!
Welcome to The Lavender Palms!
The Lavender Palms Senior Living Community occupies a cheerful stretch of Palm Springs real-estate on Tahquitz Canyon Drive, populated by residents who miss absolutely nothing but understand even less.
Officially, it is a premier LGBTQIA community offering dignity, independence, wellness, and resort-style living. Unofficially, it is The Old Queen’s Home, a name rejected by management, embraced by the residents, and already available on embroidered bathrobes and cocktail napkins in the illegal gift shop Melvins runs out of the community room.
Life at The Lavender Palms is governed by pool-lounger politics, vicious pickleball rivalries, clandestine romances, elaborate happy hours, and gossip that travels faster than an emergency announcement. The average age is seventy-eight, but no one’s appetite for scandal has diminished.
Julian Carter, a retired English and history teacher, is the community’s unofficial social director, peacemaker, and keeper of secrets. He remembers every birthday, settles every feud, and knows which personal histories have been carefully edited.
Ashley Adler, a four-foot-eleven Southern drag queen with red glasses, limitless confidence, and an outfit for every conceivable occasion, and accessories for emergency situations. He considers discretion flexible, surveillance a performance art, and every situation improved by better accessories.
Alistair Pembroke, a retired Broadway producer who carries a brass-capped walking stick and treats daily life like a production desperately in need of his direction. His husband, Douglas Conner “Dugger”, a retired entertainment attorney, relies on facts, logic, and carefully constructed questions, usually while trying to stop Alistair from turning every conversation into an audition.
Doug Rogers is the group’s quiet MacGyver, or MacGayver as Ashley dubs him, capable of repairing almost anything and creating investigative devices from objects others would throw away. He is practical, technically gifted, and frequently the only person behaving like an adult.
Then there is Evelyn Sterling, the fiercely competitive queen of the pickleball court, whose sharp tongue is matched by her suspicion of everyone around her. At her side is Pam Lickman, calm, observant, and far more formidable than anyone realizes. Presiding over them all is Dr. Marcus Vance, the polished executive director who calls residents “community partners,” describes rent increases as “strategic adjustments,” and is known privately as Mussolini in Moisturizer.
They are surrounded by former performers, aging activists, shameless gossips, unexpected lovers, and people who have survived far too much to behave cautiously now.
Then one of them is found dead beside the swimming pool.
Management calls it a natural death. The residents are not convinced.
Soon The Lavender Palms is consumed by missing documents, suspicious visitors, questionable business dealings, secret relationships, conflicting stories, and an investigation conducted by people with no badges, no authority, and no intention of minding their own business. Disguises are assembled. Trackers are planted. Stakeouts are organized. Golf carts are driven in ways their manufacturers never intended.
Somebody knows what happened. Somebody may be lying. And among this outrageous collection of friends, rivals, lovers, performers, lawyers, fixers, and professional meddlers, the first mystery is not merely who did it.
It’s which outfit is appropriate for an evening sunset golf cart chase.
Murder at The Lavender Palms is a character-driven comedic mystery about chosen family, defiant aging, and a community that refuses to become invisible, or retire from the drama of life.
The Lavender Palms Senior Living Community occupies a cheerful stretch of Palm Springs real-estate on Tahquitz Canyon Drive, populated by residents who miss absolutely nothing but understand even less.
Officially, it is a premier LGBTQIA community offering dignity, independence, wellness, and resort-style living. Unofficially, it is The Old Queen’s Home, a name rejected by management, embraced by the residents, and already available on embroidered bathrobes and cocktail napkins in the illegal gift shop Melvins runs out of the community room.
Life at The Lavender Palms is governed by pool-lounger politics, vicious pickleball rivalries, clandestine romances, elaborate happy hours, and gossip that travels faster than an emergency announcement. The average age is seventy-eight, but no one’s appetite for scandal has diminished.
Julian Carter, a retired English and history teacher, is the community’s unofficial social director, peacemaker, and keeper of secrets. He remembers every birthday, settles every feud, and knows which personal histories have been carefully edited.
Ashley Adler, a four-foot-eleven Southern drag queen with red glasses, limitless confidence, and an outfit for every conceivable occasion, and accessories for emergency situations. He considers discretion flexible, surveillance a performance art, and every situation improved by better accessories.
Alistair Pembroke, a retired Broadway producer who carries a brass-capped walking stick and treats daily life like a production desperately in need of his direction. His husband, Douglas Conner “Dugger”, a retired entertainment attorney, relies on facts, logic, and carefully constructed questions, usually while trying to stop Alistair from turning every conversation into an audition.
Doug Rogers is the group’s quiet MacGyver, or MacGayver as Ashley dubs him, capable of repairing almost anything and creating investigative devices from objects others would throw away. He is practical, technically gifted, and frequently the only person behaving like an adult.
Then there is Evelyn Sterling, the fiercely competitive queen of the pickleball court, whose sharp tongue is matched by her suspicion of everyone around her. At her side is Pam Lickman, calm, observant, and far more formidable than anyone realizes. Presiding over them all is Dr. Marcus Vance, the polished executive director who calls residents “community partners,” describes rent increases as “strategic adjustments,” and is known privately as Mussolini in Moisturizer.
They are surrounded by former performers, aging activists, shameless gossips, unexpected lovers, and people who have survived far too much to behave cautiously now.
Then one of them is found dead beside the swimming pool.
Management calls it a natural death. The residents are not convinced.
Soon The Lavender Palms is consumed by missing documents, suspicious visitors, questionable business dealings, secret relationships, conflicting stories, and an investigation conducted by people with no badges, no authority, and no intention of minding their own business. Disguises are assembled. Trackers are planted. Stakeouts are organized. Golf carts are driven in ways their manufacturers never intended.
Somebody knows what happened. Somebody may be lying. And among this outrageous collection of friends, rivals, lovers, performers, lawyers, fixers, and professional meddlers, the first mystery is not merely who did it.
It’s which outfit is appropriate for an evening sunset golf cart chase.
Murder at The Lavender Palms is a character-driven comedic mystery about chosen family, defiant aging, and a community that refuses to become invisible, or retire from the drama of life.
The Lavender Palms Senior Living Community occupies a cheerful stretch of Palm Springs real-estate on Tahquitz Canyon Drive, populated by residents who miss absolutely nothing but understand even less.
Officially, it is a premier LGBTQIA community offering dignity, independence, wellness, and resort-style living. Unofficially, it is The Old Queen’s Home, a name rejected by management, embraced by the residents, and already available on embroidered bathrobes and cocktail napkins in the illegal gift shop Melvins runs out of the community room.
Life at The Lavender Palms is governed by pool-lounger politics, vicious pickleball rivalries, clandestine romances, elaborate happy hours, and gossip that travels faster than an emergency announcement. The average age is seventy-eight, but no one’s appetite for scandal has diminished.
Julian Carter, a retired English and history teacher, is the community’s unofficial social director, peacemaker, and keeper of secrets. He remembers every birthday, settles every feud, and knows which personal histories have been carefully edited.
Ashley Adler, a four-foot-eleven Southern drag queen with red glasses, limitless confidence, and an outfit for every conceivable occasion, and accessories for emergency situations. He considers discretion flexible, surveillance a performance art, and every situation improved by better accessories.
Alistair Pembroke, a retired Broadway producer who carries a brass-capped walking stick and treats daily life like a production desperately in need of his direction. His husband, Douglas Conner “Dugger”, a retired entertainment attorney, relies on facts, logic, and carefully constructed questions, usually while trying to stop Alistair from turning every conversation into an audition.
Doug Rogers is the group’s quiet MacGyver, or MacGayver as Ashley dubs him, capable of repairing almost anything and creating investigative devices from objects others would throw away. He is practical, technically gifted, and frequently the only person behaving like an adult.
Then there is Evelyn Sterling, the fiercely competitive queen of the pickleball court, whose sharp tongue is matched by her suspicion of everyone around her. At her side is Pam Lickman, calm, observant, and far more formidable than anyone realizes. Presiding over them all is Dr. Marcus Vance, the polished executive director who calls residents “community partners,” describes rent increases as “strategic adjustments,” and is known privately as Mussolini in Moisturizer.
They are surrounded by former performers, aging activists, shameless gossips, unexpected lovers, and people who have survived far too much to behave cautiously now.
Then one of them is found dead beside the swimming pool.
Management calls it a natural death. The residents are not convinced.
Soon The Lavender Palms is consumed by missing documents, suspicious visitors, questionable business dealings, secret relationships, conflicting stories, and an investigation conducted by people with no badges, no authority, and no intention of minding their own business. Disguises are assembled. Trackers are planted. Stakeouts are organized. Golf carts are driven in ways their manufacturers never intended.
Somebody knows what happened. Somebody may be lying. And among this outrageous collection of friends, rivals, lovers, performers, lawyers, fixers, and professional meddlers, the first mystery is not merely who did it.
It’s which outfit is appropriate for an evening sunset golf cart chase.
Murder at The Lavender Palms is a character-driven comedic mystery about chosen family, defiant aging, and a community that refuses to become invisible, or retire from the drama of life.
