This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Nan Dixon will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Why do you write in your genre? What draws you to it?
Even though the first romance books I read were historical, all the crazy story ideas I get are usually contemporary. I had one idea for a historical after I visited St Petersburg, Russia. (My daughter was ballerina and was training there for a summer.) The palaces are incredible and I wanted to set a book there. I think I write contemporary because I pull my ideas from the world around me. I write romance because I love a happily-ever-after.
What research is required?
For the Fitzgerald House series I have vacationed in Savannah and Tybee, but I also spend time there via Google Earth. Especially on THROUGH A MAGNOLIA FILTER where the hero and heroine spend a lot of time in Bonaventure cemetery. (They are photographers and the cemetery is filled with amazing statues.)
But today, for the next series I am working on, I was just checking whether car unlock after the airbags go off, or if the heroine would have to unlock the car door. And I needed to know what happened when the airbags were deployed. If you want to see some of my research—check out my Pinterest page.
Name one thing you learned from your hero/heroine.
Take time to enjoy your family. They are the most important people in my life.
Do you have any odd or interesting writing quirks, habits or superstitions?
I have prosecco in all my books. It’s my favorite wine!
Are you a plotter or pantser?
I used to be a pantser, but now plot using archetypes, GMC, and Save the Cat steps. Once I needed to meet deadlines, I had to stop stumbling around my stories!
Look to your right – what’s sitting there?
My Tigger mug filled with tea and my 24 ounce water cup. (I’m a big Winnie the Pooh fan.)
Anything new coming up from you? What?
I’m working on THE PERFECT CHILDREN a romantic suspense. It’s a book I dreamed up after dropping my daughter off at college. I had drafted book 1 before I sold my debut, but never got back to it. Now that I have finished the FITZGERALD HOUSE series, I’ve returned to it.
Premise is: Three men find out they are almost genetically identical, but they all have different mothers. The secret group now using the genetic modifications does not want the truth behind how the three men were created to be discovered. Trouble ensues!
Do you have a question for our readers?
This book is about making tough choices, about choosing between honor and love. What would you choose?
When Carolina Castillo’s once vivacious mother becomes ill, she gives up her singing dreams and comes home to Savannah. She’d do anything for her Mamá, even work at Fitzgerald House for the family she should have been part of. She’d even steal.
Carolina’s decisions make perfect sense until she comes up against the immovable rock that is gorgeous FBI agent Sage Cornell. The honorable cop sees the world in black-and-white. He would never understand the difficult choices she’s had to make, the secrets she’s been forced to keep close. And he could never love a woman like her. Or could he?
Read an excerpt:
He boosted his butt onto the stool, moaning like he was Gramps after being in the saddle for a day.
Two women worked behind the counter drawing beers. He closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths.
His eyes blinked open. “Carolina?”
The napkin slipped out of her fingers and floated to the floor.
“You got the job.” Did that make him feel better or worse since she hadn’t called?
“First day.” Her deep blue eyes had that stunned look, like a white-tailed deer caught in a four-wheeler’s lights at dusk.
“How’s your mother?” He schooled his voice, hoping she couldn’t catch his disappointment.
Her shoulders moved up and down with her sigh. His eyes dropped to her chest. Even in the modest polo, he didn’t need much imagination to remember how she’d pressed against him as they’d kissed.
So why in blazes hadn’t she called?
“They can’t get her seizures under control.” Her fingers crushed the second napkin she pulled for him. “She’s still in the hospital.”
He caught her hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.” She stared into his eyes.
The noise of the room slipped away. He wanted to make the pain in her deep blue eyes disappear, too.
She shook her head. “Um, what can I get you?”
“What’s on tap?”
“First day.” She winced. “Lots of Southbound.”
“I’ll have their seasonal.” He could have one beer and make it last through dinner.
“I’ll get that.” But she stayed right in front of him.
He smiled. Maybe she hadn’t been blowing him off. Warmth flooded through him.
“Sage?” she asked.
“I need my hand back.”
Cripes. He let go and the warmth faded like a leaking balloon. He was an idiot. “Sorry.”
Over her shoulder, she quipped, “I didn’t mind.”
“Like I said, I’m available for dinner or just a shoulder to cry on.” Preferably in bed, but even he wasn’t crass enough to suggest that to her. He wanted to help any way he could. It was the Cornell way.
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