People often ask where I get my
story ideas, and I tell them that I really don't know.
It often seems that ideas are floating around
in the air, just waiting to be plucked out of the primordial goop and turned
COMING HOME, the first book
I ever wrote, came out of that primordial goop.
Anybody who's known me for more than
five minutes knows that I'm a diehard rocker.
At my advanced age, with the help of my iPod, classic rock from the
60's, 70's and 80's helps get me through my days.
I love Springsteen and Seger and Mellencamp,
and I've seen Bon Jovi in concert five times (And expect to see them many more
times...Jon, in case you're reading this, that's a broad hint that it's time to
visit New England again. Your fans are getting antsy!
Oh, and my husband completely understands
that if you ever leave Dorothea...).
I'm also fascinated by the whole
rock star phenomenon from a sociological perspective.
I've sat, more than once, in the midst of a
crowd of thirty to fifty thousand people, and been blown away by the fact that
every face in the crowd is focused intently--entranced--on the man standing on that
stage, and every voice in the crowd is singing along with him.
You haven't lived until you're heard fifty thousand
voices singing in unison, "shot
through the heart, and you're to blame...
So it really should come as no
surprise to anyone that the first book I actually finished was about a rock
Casey Bradley and Danny Fiore
lived inside my head for a long time before I ever committed them to paper, and
in my woeful ignorance of the tenets of storytelling, I had no idea what to do
Danny was gorgeous and sexy
and talented...and damaged.
Casey was the
strong one, the good woman who pushed him to be the man she knew he could be,
and who stood by his side even under the worst of circumstances.
And maybe that would have been enough to
carry me through to the end.
certainly plenty of conflict between Casey's vision of what marriage should be and
But one day, something happened,
something so unexpected that to this day, I still don't understand how it came
I was sitting at my typewriter
(yes, you read that right...that's how long ago this was), and from out of nowhere,
Rob MacKenzie strolled onto the page, fully formed and ready to rock and
I sat up a little straighter and
frowned at the sheet of paper wound into my IBM Selectric.
Where the hell had this guy come from, this
laid-back, green-eyed guitar wizard who dressed like his clothes came from
Goodwill and who had an off-the-wall sense of humor and a hot Irish temper that
surfaced every so often?
And what in
hell was he doing in the middle of the love story I was writing?
But I've never been one to look a
gift horse in the mouth, so I just rolled with it for a while.
And the story started to gel.
Then I stopped to do a little mental arithmetic.
Two boys plus one girl equals:
The big thing this story needed to give it
legs had just appeared.
And it all came together.
It had taken years--almost two decades--but in
the end I had a romantic saga that followed fifteen years of Casey's life,
offering the reader drama and love and sex and tragedy and tears and a laugh or
It's not a light-hearted book.
Or a short one.
But I cared enough about these characters
that I just couldn't let them wither on the vine.
Did Casey get her happy ending?
Yes, but not without weathering a few storms
along the way.
Some of those storms were
pretty damn big.
But you may remember
that I said Casey was the strong one.
you read the book, you'll understand.
When COMING HOME was finished, it
was put into print by a very small publisher.
It was read by very few people, but still managed to garner a number of positive reviews
within the romance community before it disappeared for nearly a decade. Until I became aware of Kindle Direct
Publishing, and decided to give this story, this Book of My Heart, new life.
Now it's out there in Kindle-land
(also in trade paperback) as Book 1 in my ongoing Jackson Falls series, and I
couldn't be happier to be introducing Casey, Danny and Rob to a whole new group