Today we're spotlighting author Jerrie Alexander on her tour with Goddess Fish Promotions for the romantic suspense novel, "The Green-Eyed Doll".
Jerrie will be awarding a $10 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn commenter at the end of each week, and a $20 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to one randomly drawn commenter from all comments during the tour, awarded at the end of the tour, so comment today AND follow her tour (if you click on the banner above, it'll take you to a list of her tour stops)! The more you read and comment, the better your odds of winning. You could be introduced to a great new author AND win a GC!
Jerrie was incredibly brave and opted to share five deep, dark secrets with us on her stop. The floor is yours, Jerrie!
Ooooh, you're not going to make this easy. Five things...I can do this...I trust you to keep my secrets.
1) You'd never guess by looking but every summer for the past seven years I've gone snorkeling. My daughter, granddaughter, and I, leave the husbands home to guard the home front, and we have a girls only week. The baby was seven years old when we went to Nassau, Bahamas. You'd have thought she was born with fins on her little feet. I was hooked. (no pun intended) We start our search in January, because we never go back to the same place. In Belize, I snorkeled the beautiful reef, swam with stingrays, and sharks.
2) Here's another one. Many years ago, I sang lead in a group. We performed at proms, Lions Clubs, etc. We were going to be rich and famous. One by one, we went our separate ways. Life had other plans for us. I wouldn't change a thing.
3) Most folks don't know I once lived in a house built by a famous singer. The company flew us to Newnan, Georgia, which is a beautiful city located outside of Atlanta to look for a place to lease. Moving every couple of years had us shy of buying a house. The second day, we found the perfect house with an added bonus of having a huge pool. In fact, the pool had the same square footage as the house. After we signed the dotted line, we learned that Newnan is the country singer, Alan Jackson's, home town, and he'd been the original owner. Our daughter was disappointed that he never stopped by.
4) Everything that shoots or is blown up in one of my books gets fact checked by a retired Navy SEAL. He explains how each weapon works, what to use, where to aim, etc. This young man refuses to allow me to credit him by name, insisting that he's just an average guy. He's a hero who doesn't know it!
5) I'm a cancer survivor. When my daughter was four, a pap smear revealed uterine cancer cells. I'd been blessed with a boy and girl, so the decision was made to do a hysterectomy. The cancer was caught early and hasn't returned. I can't stress the importance of well-woman exams! Like the Nike slogan says...Just Do It!
Matt has scars of his own. He left the big city after an undercover operation went bad and his partner was killed. Now, as Matt hunts for a serial killer who paints his victims like porcelain dolls, Catherine becomes a safe haven for him. Two tortured souls finding comfort in each other's arms—until he uncovers her secret, and their bond of trust is broken.
When Catherine disappears, Matt races to find her, fearing the murderer has found his next green-eyed doll. But the killer has a surprise coming. Catherine will fight to the death before she'll be a victim. But will her determination be enough?
His anguish, more than she’d planned for, hit her hard. His dedication and concern, traits she admired, shook her conviction that no man could be trusted. His tenderness, something she’d never had, touched a long-neglected place in her soul.
In that small space of time, where no one else in the world existed, Catherine’s heart found hope. Tears, she’d promised herself never to shed again, slid unchecked down her cheeks. But these tears weren’t because of her pain or grief. She cried because Matt suffered and grieved for the missing woman. She slid her arms around him, stroking his tense muscles.
“Hey, yourself.” He leaned back and studied her face. The warmth behind his eyes returned as he wiped away her tears with the pads of his thumbs. “Were those for me?”
She nodded and emotions swirled in her head. Catherine struggled to regain her perspective. “I have to remove no more tears from the Never list.”
“Why would you hold yourself to such a never?”
“The only thing crying gets you are red eyes.”
“Okay, tough guy. Maybe someday you’ll trust me enough to explain. Why’d you break a rule for me?”
“The worry for Annie Travers in your eyes broke my heart. I’ve never known anyone with your compassion and dedication.”
“Careful.” The corners of his mouth lifted. “You’ll be calling me John Wayne again.”
“Same soul.” She pushed a lock of black hair off his face. He caught her wrist in his hand.
“Stop, Catherine. I’m nobody’s hero. I failed miserably in that department.”
But the characters went with her, talked to her, and insisted she share their dark, sexy stories with others. She writes alpha males and kick-ass women who weave their way through death and fear to emerge stronger because of, and on occasion in spite of, their love for each other. She likes to torture people, make them suffer, and if they’re strong enough, they live happily ever after.
Jerrie lives in Texas, loves sunshine, children’s laughter, sugar (human and granulated), and researching for her heroes and heroines.