Happy Wednesday readers.
The ever awesome Brenda Whiteside has graciously agreed to come back for round 2!
If last week's spotlight of Southwest of Love and Murder peaked your interest, then you won't want to miss the book where it all started, The Art of Love and Murder.
Is there a process you stick to, or do you just write as it hits you?
Usually characters come to me first. Once in a while, a setting will be so intriguing that I start there, then envision a character that would live there. Once I’ve established that, I begin my character files. I start with physical descriptions, and anything I know about their personalities. From there I will do a very brief synopsis that tells me the beginning, middle and end of the story. At that point, I’ll begin to write the book. As I write, I’ll build on those character studies and even add more characters.
Was there any particular inspiration for your characters or story?
Quite simply, I wanted to write a series. But I wanted each book in the series to stand on its own. I wanted each book to have a separate love story and incorporate at least one murder. So one night over dinner with my husband, we brainstormed. I came up with the Love and Murder series out of that session. Why Lacy? Why Sheriff Meadowlark? I can’t be sure. Sometimes characters just come to me out of the ether.
What is the ultimate goal you have for your career?
I’m probably pretty average when it comes to what I want out of my career – I want to sell lots of books. Why do I want to sell lots of books? I want to entertain the masses. I’m not here to teach or preach or even inspire. My main goal is to bring some escape and fun to my readers. I have a small colorful plaque on my desk given to me by a friend who is now gone from this life. It says “We’re not here for a long time, we’re here for a good time.” I hope my books do that for readers.
When not writing, what can you be found doing?
I love to travel and hike. This winter, we took our RV to Tonto Basin in Arizona so I’ve been exploring some of the local area. Many afternoons we get together with the Happy Hour Group at the RV park. We sit around the fire pit and swap stories, snack and have whatever suits us to drink be it wine or ice tea. Other than that, I read.
Favorite item of clothing in your closet?
Anything denim. I love my jeans and jean skirts. I have jean jackets and a long denim coat. Give me those and an assortment of ¾ length T shirts and I’m happy.
When writing, which do you prefer to write with, computer or paper and pen?
I’m a computer writer all the way. I’ve tried speaking my thoughts into a recorder. Didn’t work for me. And if I try pen and paper, I feel like I have writer’s block which never happens when I get in front of my computer.
Lacy Dahl never questioned her past until the deaths of her adoptive parents and her husband. A husband who wasn't what he seemed. Her research uncovers secrets about the mother she never knew; secrets that dispute the identity of her father and threaten her life.
Sheriff Chance Meadowlark is still haunted by the murder of his wife and the revenge he unleashed in the name of justice. When he meets Lacy he is determined not to become involved, but their pasts may make that impossible. As they move closer to the truth, saving Lacy may be his only salvation.
Lacy begins to think the present is more important than her past...until Chance's connection to her mother and a murder spin her deeper into danger and further from love. Will the truth destroy Lacy and Chance or will it be the answer that frees them?
Momentarily struck dumb by his eye color, she stared back. Why hadn’t she noticed until now? Although not as light as hers or her father’s, the professor’s eyes were a startling green shade.
His hand nudged her arm. “Lacy?”
She jumped. “Oh, yes.” She slipped the tissue from the half-carved wolf. Another glance at his eyes and goose bumps riddled her arms.
He lifted the wood close to his face, using both hands as if handling a delicate hummingbird. His thumb traced the neck of the creature to the juncture of where it emerged from the wood. When he brought the piece to his nose, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, Lacy wanted to turn away from the oddly erotic gesture.
He swallowed, opened his eyes and set the wolf back on the tissue. His attention shifted to the photograph of the chest. He touched the photo, a smile on his lips. “Where is the chest?”
The chest. Like he knew it, had seen it before. “I’m having it sent. You’ve seen it before?”
He didn’t move, stared out the window as if deep in thought. “I’d like to show you something, Lacy.”
“All right.” She waited, watching his profile.
He turned and stared into her face a moment. “You’re so very lovely. A creation full of life and passion, surpassing any art form.”
His hypnotic voice floated on the classical strains drifting from the living room. She couldn’t speak. Didn’t know what to say. She’d been lifted upon a pedestal of admiration. With any other man, she might consider his words a means to a sexual end. The professor’s intentions, however, were crystal. He admired her like a work of art.
Visit Brenda at www.brendawhiteside.com.
Or on FaceBook: www.facebook.com/BrendaWhitesideAuthor
She blogs on the 9th and 24th of every month at http://rosesofprose.blogspot.com
She blogs about prairie life and writing at http://brendawhiteside.blogspot.com/