I was about 10 years old when I first plotted my sister’s death. She had eaten the tips of my chocolate bunny ears following the Easter Bunny’s visit and I was enraged. I was beyond consolation. I needed was revenge. And so, I lay in my bed and plotted out how I would destroy her. If memory serves, it was brilliant. So brilliant, in fact, I told my sister all about it the next day. That’s right. I told her how she would meet her untimely demise. Not nearly so impressed, she said, “You’re sick and I’m telling.” But to my delight, my mom was just as impressed as me. She did take a moment to tell me that my chocolate bunny was just chocolate and that I shouldn’t … blah, blah … the point here is that my mother agreed with me that my plans to annihilate my sister were both methodical and genius. At age 12, we lived in Moscow, Russia and there was no television. I was missing all the good stuff (like the Dukes of Hazzard), so it was up to me to make up stories during our hour-long bus rides to the Anglo-American school. Too…

Many years ago, I lived alone, a great distance from any family. I had a few friends, but no one I could really count on. Being lonely, I sought comfort and solace on the Internet. There, I discovered the world of online role playing. I created a variety of characters that frolicked through AOL chat rooms. Two of those characters quickly became my favorites. The first transformed into Selah Clairet, whose story has yet to be told. The second developed into Raven Criswell. Her story will be released in November in the book, HERALDS OF THE CROWN: FUSION. I had to change a great deal about the characters and their stories, but much of Raven’s has stayed true to the original. After I wrote FUSION, I knew there was more to it. I wanted to explore the backstory of the characters I had created. Where did they come from? Who were their parents? Why were they important? This is how HERALDS OF THE CROWN: POISON was born. I traveled back in the timeline to learn the origin stories of the characters. My villain gained depth and strength. My FUSION hero now had a motive behind his actions. And I had a story arc…

Welcome to August! This month I’m featuring Paige Shelton and her brand new book, IF CATFISH HAD NINE LIVES. It’s the fourth book in the Country Cooking Mystery series and does not disappoint! Paige sat down with me to do a little Q&A. Enjoy! 1. Do you believe in ghosts like Betts does? Not in the full-bodied form. I’ve had plenty of somewhat unexplainable moments where I heard something strange or saw something at the corner of my vision that made me wonder. I’ve sensed “presences” in the room, but I haven’t been able to pinpoint them except to think that they’re my intuition trying to tell me something. I try to listen. 2. What is one of Betts’ favorite recipes?  Can you share it here?
 This is the fried chicken recipe from the first book of the series, IF FRIED CHICKEN COULD FLY. It’s not a quick process, but I love the end product. It seems my readers do, too. I get lots of positive emails about it. Ingredients Chicken pieces, skin left on Vegetable oil Milk 3 cups flour 2 teaspoons salt 2 teaspoons pepper 1 teaspoon paprika Cast iron skillet Directions: Rinse the chicken pieces and pat…

I am an unabashed Susan Elizabeth Phillips fan. I have been for most of my adult life, since I read NOBODY’S BABY BUT MINE, fell deeply in love with Cal, and never looked back. For romance readers, Susan is the kind of author who keeps you watching the calendar, waiting for her latest release. For romance writers she is Babe Ruth, Einstein, Meryl Streep (pick your comparison)—what I’m getting at is this: Susan Elizabeth Phillips is the master, and we are lucky to get a chance to write around her. I’m here today to talk about AIN’T SHE SWEET, which I read at least once a year (sometimes more than once when I’m in that book slump that its heroine, Sugar Beth Carey, is such an expert at getting the residents of Parrish, Mississippi out of). I reread it for lots of reasons that you’d expect—it’s hilariously funny, very sexy and a terrific example of a book that just makes you feel good. But I also read it because we are all Sugar Beth. At first glance, you won’t believe me. You see, at the start of the book, Sugar Beth is a downright bitch. You know the kind of…

Writers love words—and some of my personal favorites are combined into the following quote by Jonathan Franzen. “Fiction that isn’t an author’s personal adventure into the frightening or the unknown isn’t worth writing for anything but money.” This is one of the truest things about writing. When an author plays it safe and cranks out a formulaic or cliché idea, just to guarantee that next book deal and pay the bills, their story suffers for it—and therefore, their readers suffer for it. The author didn’t grow during the process of writing the book, and as a result, the reader didn’t grow either. A reader will only reap out of a story what an author sows into it. If the author hasn’t laughed or cried during the writing, the reader will not laugh or cry during the reading. If the author isn’t emotionally spent and wrung out by the time he or she types The End, the reader won’t be moved by the time he or she finally reads The End. Oh, I get the temptation to cut corners, trust me. As a single mom, I more than understand needing groceries on the table and electricity to power up that computer!…

In my historical romance, THE LADY AND THE OFFICER, Madeline Howard had never intended to become a spy. But when military intelligence practically falls into her lap, how could she not serve her country behind enemy lines? While researching this novel, I discovered plenty of real-life spies whose lives of intrigue provided plenty of inspiration. Here is a little bit about three of them: Probably the most famous Confederate spy was Belle Boyd. At 17, Belle was arrested for shooting a Union soldier who had broken into the family’s home. Though Union officers cleared her of all charges, they watched her closely. Young and attractive, Boyd used her charms to gain information, which she passed along to the Confederacy. After repeated warnings to stop her activities, Union officials sent Boyd to live in Front Royal, Virginia. Soon after her arrival, she began working as a courier between Confederate generals. Stonewall Jackson credited Belle with helping him win victories in the Shenandoah Valley. In July 1862, Boyd was arrested and sent to Old Capitol Prison in Washington, D.C. She was released a month later and deported to Richmond, but was soon caught behind federal lines and imprisoned for three more months….

Last month, I braved the heat of Texas and spent a few days in San Antonio. I stayed in a historic hotel right next to the Alamo, strolled the Riverwalk to find an out of the way restaurant, and took in the sights and sounds of a place I’d never been before. I didn’t want to pack up my bags and come home. I love finding new places to visit. But sometimes, the travel bug is biting, but the day job and my budget isn’t cooperating. What’s a girl with itchy feet to do then? Stay-cation. Pull up the chamber of commerce website for your home town and towns within driving distance and find someplace you haven’t been. I’m lucky that I live in a small historic river town. There are lots of places I haven’t made it too, even though we’ve lived here over five years. Like the brand new river museum. When my son visited last fall, we took a trip to the Cahokia Mounds where an early American tribe lived before they disappeared into history. Reminds you of the Roanoke villagers, doesn’t it? The site has a great museum that highlights the day to day life of…

Drama isn’t just the stuff of my fiction, it’s the story of my life. Case in point: two days ago, I’d just posted on Instagram when I realized to my horror I’d accidentally (don’t ask!) tacked a list of my passwords onto the post. I instantly deleted it, of course. I wasn’t aware it had gone out on Twitter and Facebook until I got a phone call from my sister-in-law, Doretta, in California. It’s not enough I have to worry about hackers in the Ukraine—oh no, way too tame for yours truly— I had to post my passwords on the Internet. Hours later, when I finally staggered off to bed after changing all my passwords, it was only to toss and turn with nightmares of Ukrainian hackers. My decision to go indie after decades of being traditionally published began in similar grand fashion. It dates back to an incident that occurred before there even was an Internet to speak of.  When my second novel, SUCH DEVOTED SISTERS, came out in the 1980’s, it happened to coincide with the fatwa on Salman Rushdie, with whom I shared the same publisher at the time. Everyone involved with the Rushdie novel had received…

Whenever I tackle a story set in another time or place I really like to see if I can find some actual event that happened there and weave it into my novel. It has long been my belief that the best way to teach or learn from history is to take it out of the larger context and focus it in on one event or one group of people. The step after that is to place myself in their situation—in their minds if possible—and figure out how I might have survived. Such is the case with my latest novel SAFE HAVEN—the third and final installment of my Peacemakers series. In researching the first two books of the series I stumbled across the incredible story of a boatload of European refugees brought to America in 1944 (before the end of WWII) as “guests” of President Roosevelt. These nearly one thousand men, women and children had lost everything in the war—their homes, their businesses, their belongings and in many cases their dignity and their faith. So hooray for FDR for rescuing them, right? Well, sort of. The refugees were brought to the USA by boat and taken immediately to a fort in…

St. Clair was attempting a confession or a condemnation of himself; Milly wasn’t sure which, but she did know she wanted to take him in her arms when he spoke like this. “Every time you describe your role, my lord, you paint yourself as more and more of an animal, and less and less a man.” And he let her see more and more of the cost to him for having played that role. He opened his eyes. “I am an animal, a traitorous animal, but I’d rather be honestly viewed as that than as any woman’s toy, ever.” He touched Milly’s chin, so she had to look him in the eye. “I tortured those officers, Milly. I studied them, toyed with their trust, and determined how best to wrest from them their dignity, their health, their sanity. Among the English I gained the sobriquet, “The Inquisitor,” and I was very, very good at what I did.” His hand remained under her chin, as if he’d will Milly to repeat his ugly words. His gaze pleaded with her to agree with their import, to accept the truth of his self-characterization. “And nobody was torturing French officers, were they?” Milly spat….