Many thanks to Fresh Fiction for having me here to talk about my latest book! The fun part about writing my witchy series is putting a bit of myself in each character. Usually, it’s my demented sense of humor and my friends will tell you they hear my voice any time they read Jazz’s books. But if I had a choice for A DEMON DOES IT BETTER, who would I be? That’s really a toughie. I adore Deisphe with her bad kitty attitude and her caring nature for her patients. The idea of turning into a sleek leopard sounds like fun. Lili with her gift of magickal healing. A cozy house, good friends. But I’d have to say I wouldn’t mind being Cleo for a day. Can you imagine a cat with her history? She’s THAT Cleo! The female who had Julius Caesar and Marc Anthony as lovers along with ruling Egypt. I’m sure she wanted to be thrown into one of the slinky cats known during that ancient time, and instead is a fluffy gorgeous Persian. But maybe that’s what she likes since she has a good-sized tail to twitch at any admiring male. Cleo also loves children and…

The unexpected hero… I’d like to introduce you to SAC Taylor Jones… the top dog of a special task force in the FBI. His team consists of psychics and if you ask just about any of them? They’ll tell you the same thing I would have said a few years ago… he’s a cold piece of work. And he’s not a hero. Yep. That was my analysis. He’s the by-the-books type. Cold. As I said. Icy. Driven. Determined. I would (and have) even called him a jerk. So why did I write a book about him? Because I kept getting asked this troubling little question… Why is he like that? Taylor first appeared in THE MISSING. The heroine in that book, Taige Branch, worked for Taylor. He was her boss. And let me tell you, he didn’t impress me. A friend of mine asked me, When are you writing his book? That was barely a week after THE MISSING came out. I said, Um…never…! He’s a jerk! Actually, I used a stronger word. But you get the idea. She responded back with: I KNOW! I need to know what made him that way! I told her there wasn’t a story…

When I was a little girl, I lived in a 1930s-era house, complete with keyholes big enough to look through, heavy doorknobs, and leaded glass. One day, I found a key—I can’t remember where I’d found it. It was an old-fashioned key—heavy, corroded metal. A thick stem and chunky teeth. I asked my mother what it was to, and she said she didn’t know. I pondered. I asked her again what it was to. She still didn’t know. There was something about that key that was elusive, even a little frustrating. What did it lock? And what was the purpose of the locking? Did this key keep people out? Or did it lock people in? Was it to a box, filled with secrets and keepsakes? And what made those things worthy of protection? The key seemed to have a story, but its lips were sealed. Amazingly enough, I found myself writing about keys when I started working on my new book, A PROMISE OF SAFEKEEPING. The hero, Will, is an antiques dealer—a picker. And he’s fascinated by the stories that antiques tell (and don’t tell). Here’s the story: Nine years ago, Lauren Matthews prosecuted the case of a lifetime. But…