Were you an avid reader as a child? What type of books did you enjoy reading?
Sounds messed up, but I did a lot of babysitting and would read Stephen King after the kids were all tucked in, and the house was quiet, except for evening sounds. At least I attempted to reassure myself it was just creaking boards and the howling wind.
Tell us a bit about your latest book, and what inspired you to write such a story.
Bolt Action releases in April 2010 from www.champagnebooks.com Secrets of the past, murder, mystery, revenge, deception, sexual tension, and the “State Quarter Killer”; Bolt Action offers it all. In my Action Thriller, Bolt Action, Detective Leslie Bolt is a tough talking, gun hording, motorcycle riding investigator with as much insecurity as the rest of us. After a childhood of abuse suffered at the hands of her father, Leslie stashes a collection of pistols, revolvers, and even keeps a Browning A-Bolt Stalker Rifle in her broom closet. She is stand-offish and down right rude. Having to work a serial murder case with her handsome ex-lover Detective Lance Kestler doesn’t improve her disposition. The “State Quarter Killer” is selecting victims that appear to have nothing in common except for the State Quarter placed under their lifeless bodies. When her sister goes missing the question rises; will Detective Bolt capture the serial killer before her sister is the next victim?
The idea of Bolt Action started with the characters, Detective Leslie Bolt and her sister Tasha. My personal story of adoption was published in the anthology entitled A Cup of Comfort for Adoptive Families, Adams Media 2009. My story entitled Why I Believe in Angels is the account of how I came to live with my current family at the age of seven. With their acceptance and support, they helped me become who I am today. That publication has inspired many people to share their own stories of adoption with me. Heartfelt tales told through the eyes of parents and also from the children that were adopted. I am sorry to report I also heard a few troubled stories of adoption, and one comment remained in my thoughts and stalked me. That sole comment became the disposition for the sisters in my novel, Bolt Action.
How would you describe your creative process while writing this book?
Was it stream-of-consciousness writing, or did you first write an outline?
I don’t outline, so I guess I’m a pantser and I wing it. I will have an idea and a character in mind. The characters end up taking the story line over, so it is also a surprise to me how the story will unfold and conclude.
Did your book require a lot of research?
For BOLT ACTION I researched police procedure, domestic abuse statistics and procedures, autopsy information, breast cancer statistics, guns, and serial killers.
If you could have any vice without repercussions, what would it be? Eating meat and potatoes.
If you could have been the servant to any famous person in history, who would that be and why?
Pick me, pick me! I’d love to have been working and not noticed in the white house during JFK’s reign. Conspiracy, the mafia, the CIA, Castro, those were some interesting troubled times. There is nothing new under the sun…you can’t make that stuff up.
What so you see for the future of publishing and ebooks? Are ebooks the wave of the future?
I believe ebooks are economically and environmentally friendly and are here to stay. I just hope hard working authors get their due.
Which of your characters do you love/hate/fear/pity the most and why?
I have a spot in my heart for Detective Leslie Bolt. I can understand her hard, kick ass, outer shell and the chip on her shoulder, but she’s a good person and wants to reach out without knowing how. I feel pain and pity for her sister Tasha because she acts happy on the outside, but she is bitter and superficial. Life can be hard, but we choose our positive or negative attitude.
Do you get along with your muse? What do you do to placate her when she refuses to inspire you?
I get much more sleep now that I listen to my muse and write what she wants. Sometimes while writing my first novel from www.asylettpress.com The Dream House Visions And Nightmares I would edit things the next day and never remember writing them. When my muse refuses to inspire me I take her for a motorcycle ride. Too bad
Wisconsin winters are so long.
Do you have another book in the works? Would you like to tell readers about your current or future projects? I’m in the process of submitting The Haunting of Ingersull Penitentiary.
With an inheritance from her parent’s estate, Hailey Price is remodeling a portion of the former Ingersull Penitentiary into a bed and breakfast, and banquet hall. The guests of the former prison currently known as The Big House Inn discover that the residual haunts are the least of the frightening occurrences inside the bed and breakfast. Time alone in a dismal abandoned penitentiary could play tricks on a person’s psyche, but a wandering Ouija Board, a possessed electric chair, and blood spewing out of a wall threatens to push Hailey Price over the edge. The guests will check in at their own risk, but will they ever check out? Can Hailey overcome the haunting of her own past in order to find the strength to battle this evil force and save the guests?
Have you ever experience weird cravings while you write? If so, what kind? Coffee and fat free fudge sickles.
What is the worst, best, most embarrassing or funniest situation your writing career has put you in? The best thing that happened…when I signed up for facebook I stumbled across a group my son Josh was setting up to support and promote me called, For Mom. He never said a word about it. He sent an email to all his friends to join my group and they did!
Where can readers find you on the web?
Is the “State Quarter Killer” taunting police? In charge of the case, Detective Bolt’s apartment is tossed and her twin sister is missing, which raises the question was the intended target Detective Leslie Bolt? Has her irresponsible sister just run off again, or will Detective Bolt need to solve the “State Quarter Case” before her sister is the next victim? Here is an excerpt from Bolt Action:
Bolt Action, April 210
Champagne Books. www.champagnebooks.com
Lying in the dark shadows of my bedroom, I startled at a slamming sound. Every hair on my arms crystallized as I grappled under the pillow for my Ruger Blackhawk .357 and flashlight. Baby, my cat, startled to near death, screeched and ran from the bed. My heart lurched in my chest. In the silence of the night, the sound of the Ruger cocking ricocheted off the walls.
In an attempt to become undetectable in the darkness, I inhaled the slowest breaths possible without passing out. Convinced someone observed, perhaps studied, my every movement, I summoned my courage with a prayer.
I flipped the flashlight on and scanned my bedroom. For the third time this week, nothing, no one present.
To ease my mind, I proceeded through my duplex with stealth-like movements, as if I were responding to an armed intruder call. Keeping my wrists crossed with my Ruger in my right hand and the flashlight in my left, I crept from one room to another, turning on every light available. With my duplex lit up like a landing strip, I positioned the flashlight on my oak end table. Confident the twelve and a half inch barrel of my .357 protected me, I jerked open every closet door, hoping someone waited inside to be shot. I believed an apprehended suspect might be my chance at sanity, putting to rest the repetitive noises and sensation of being watched.
With a predator like approach toward the bathroom, I noticed the shower curtain stirring. My pulse throbbed in my esophagus, threatening to cut off my air supply. Creeping into my nineteen-fifties Pepto Bismol pink bathroom, with a trembling hand I grasped and jerked open the curtain. The sound of the rings scraping against the rod made a deafening screech.
Succumbing to mental exhaustion, I leaned my head against the bathroom door.
“Shit.” In the silence, the sound of my own voice startled me. I couldn’t keep going like this night after night.
A slamming noise vibrated between the duplexes. Sprinting to the kitchen, I set the flashlight on the counter and pressed my face against the kitchen window. I cupped my left hand around my eyes to peer into the driveway. I surveyed the driveway I shared with my neighbor Mark, but I couldn’t detect his car.
If he’s gone, where is the noise coming from?
I thought of one place I hadn’t checked. The thought of entering the moldy, reeking storage area made my stomach contents curdle like cottage cheese. With my desire to find the source of the noises superseding my fear of dark, damp spaces, I tucked the Ruger in the waistband of my drawstring sleep pants.
Out of my collection of weapons that I have stashed around my apartment, I choose my Browning A-Bolt Stainless Stalker rifle from behind the mop in the broom closet. I headed in the direction of the enclosed storage area. Flipping on the porch light in hopes of frightening an intruder, I exited my front door. As I reached the bottom of the wooden steps, I could detect an outline of a person in front of the shadowed storage area door. Male─at least six feet tall.