Tell us a bit about yourself and your writing. (How did you get started? How many books have you written? Where are you on your writing journey?)
I’d been a published playwright (over 50 scripts) and turned to novels in 2003. I began going to committee by 2004, but God kept all the doors firmly shut. When the acquiring editor retires and the company wipes her hard drive clean—the one with your book on it—you realize God is saying, “Not now. Not here.” My debut novel hit the shelves in 2014, and at the moment, I have 3 books out with another coming in May this year.
I’ve written 7 novels, 1 novella and a short story. All but one will eventually be published. My first written manuscript dwells beneath my bed. Only the dust bunnies have read it.
What is your favorite Bible verse?
My life verse is Phil 1:6 - “Of this I am certain, that the same God who began a good work in you, will continue it until the day Christ Jesus returns.” To me that says God is at work in me, and will keep on refining me until Jesus returns. Then, I’ll be miraculously finished! It gives me hope when I mess up.
What have you read lately that you would recommend?
Summer at Hideaway Key, by Barbara Davis. I loved the book. It isn’t often that a plot takes me by surprise. This one did. If you like Southern beach books, this is great. The other one is Five Brides, by Eva Marie Everson. A great story inspired by real people.
What book are you featuring today?
Chapel Springs Survival, my own “inspired by real life” story. Our eldest son got himself a modern-day mail order bride from Columbia, South America. Without us knowing until she was here, a year after they got married. I told him for that, it was going in a book. I have to tell you, we adore our daughter-in-law. She’s the best thing that ever happened to our Michael. But that wouldn’t have made a good story, now would it? Here’s the back cover copy:
Chapel Springs Survival
A mail-order bride, a town overrun with tourists, and illegal art.
How on earth will Claire and Chapel Springs survive?
Claire Bennett's Operation Marriage Revival succeeded and life is good. That is until the mayor's brother blabs a secret: Claire's nineteen-year-old son has married a Brazilian mail order bride. When Claire tries to welcome her, she's ridiculed, rebuffed, and rejected. Loving this girl is like hugging a prickly cactus.
Lydia Smith is happily living alone and running her spa—then the widow on the hill becomes a blushing bride. Then her groom's adult son moves in—on everything.
From the first sighting of a country music star in The Painted Loon, Chapel Springs is inundated with stargazers, causing residents to flee the area. When her best friends put their house on the market, Claire is forced to do something or lose the closest thing to a sister she’s got. With her son's future at stake and the town's problems to solve, it's Claire's who needs a guardian angel.
If you could tell people who are going to read/have read your books one thing, what would it be?
Faith, friends and family are what make life worthwhile.
About the Author:
What had they done? When she and her friends envisioned the revitalization of Chapel Springs, it was a nice, controlled rise in tourist trade—not this craziness.
One bruised elbow later, Claire reached the door of her art gallery, The Painted Loon, and turned her key in the lock. A heavy hand grasped her shoulder. Her heart skipped a beat. Was she about to be robbed?
Hold on. In broad daylight? With this crowd watching? She may not be the brightest color on the palette, but she did possess a little common sense. Her gaze traveled up the beefy arm to a scraggly-bearded face with beady eyes. A rolled red bandana wrapped around his forehead, held back salt-and-pepper hair. Beside him stood a bleached-blonde motorcycle mama, dressed in a halter-top and the skimpiest shorts Claire had ever seen. Strings hung from their ragged edges and drew attention to the lumpy cellulite dotting the back of her thighs. Who was this woman trying to kid? She was fifty if she was a day.
"You're the loon lady," Motor-mama said. "We want to see your pots."