Lots of stuff hap­pen­ing today! First, I’ve joined a group of authors and we’ve formed a site for read­ers: Booklover’s Bench. It launches today with a con­test. The prize? A Nook Sim­ple Touch plus a Nook Book from each of the five par­tic­i­pat­ing authors: myself, Terry Ambrose, Nancy J. Cohen, Karla Darcy, and Mag­gie Tou­s­saint. Please visit our new site and enter our first contest.

A num­ber of read­ers said they liked read­ing inter­views, so I’ll be offer­ing this as a guest option for all my guests begin­ning in March. But a spe­cial author friend, Kath­leen O’Brien has vol­un­teered to give the process a ‘test run.’ Not only that, but she’s giv­ing away a copy of her book, Wild for the Sher­iff AND a $10 Ama­zon gift card to one com­menter. You have until Fri­day to enter. Here’s a look at her answers to some of my ques­tions. And if you’d like to be a guest, let me know using the con­tact form. Wel­come, Kathleen!

What trig­gered the story behind your lat­est release? Last year, a friend rec­om­mended “The Stair­case,” an enthralling doc­u­men­tary series about a man put on trial for killing his wife—although he con­tends she sim­ply fell down the stair­case.  The court­room drama was intrigu­ing, but what really mys­ti­fied me was how the woman’s chil­dren stood by their step­fa­ther, no mat­ter how damn­ing the evi­dence became.  Why?  How?  They even con­tin­ued to live with him, in the house where their mother had died.  I was fas­ci­nated by the whole dynamic, and I knew there was a story in there some­where.  I began to research what hap­pens to chil­dren when one par­ent kills the other…and The Sis­ters of Bell River Ranch was born. In Wild for the Sher­iff, the hero­ine, Rowena Wright, is one of the most prickly, defen­sive hero­ines I’ve ever writ­ten.  Inex­plic­a­bly but con­stantly rejected by her foul-tempered father, she openly rebelled and got quite a rep­u­ta­tion in Sil­verdell, Col­orado, as a big-time trou­ble­maker. Then, when she was only 16, her father killed her mother, and any hope of a nor­mal life was shat­tered.  Now she has come home, to the beloved Bell River Ranch from which she was exiled 15 years ago, and to Dal­las Gar­wood, the good boy she “ruined” but never forgot. Dal­las is all grown up now.  He’s a divorced father, Silverdell’s sher­iff, and more than capa­ble of sav­ing even the worst “bad girl” in town.  But if he’s going to save this one, she’s got to let go of the past—and Rowena has no idea whether, in her case, such a mir­a­cle is possible. I’m writ­ing the third sister’s story right now, and I have to say this has become one of my absolute favorite series ever.  It’s emo­tion­ally gru­el­ing, of course.  But it’s so reward­ing to take these brave, wounded women, so unfairly cheated of home and fam­ily, love and security—everything lit­tle girls ought to be able to take for granted—and give them the happy end­ings they richly deserve and des­per­ately need.

Plot­ter or Pantser? Plot­ter.  Have been for years.  The first few books I wrote, way back when, were pantsed.   (Pants-ied?  Well, any­way, not plot­ted.)  Writ­ing them took for­ever.  Lots of going back and rewrit­ing, because I’d raced ahead, 100 mph on the keyboard…toward a brick wall. Now that I have reg­u­lar dead­lines, pub dates and daily quo­tas, I’d rather put the time in at the front end, mak­ing sure my story map is going to get me to my des­ti­na­tion in the word-count allowed.  From there, my char­ac­ters may take scenic side trips, and make a few unsched­uled stops when the mood hits, but I always get where I’m going.  Feels great.

What’s on your desk? What should be on my desk:  The lap­top, mon­i­tor, key­board and printer.
My “Moulin Rouge” mouse pad from my dear­est writ­ing buddy, Ann Evans, who died recently.
A sticky note from my daugh­ter that says “I love you xox­ox­oxo 11 a.m. lunch tomor­row?”
A car­toon from my son of a lit­tle boy wav­ing at me.
A sticky note from my hus­band that says “Things to remem­ber” on which he’s writ­ten “Smooch!”
Cof­fee, in one of the mugs I painted at the do-it-yourself pot­tery place, with a quote from one of my favorite poems for inspi­ra­tion.  I’ll come to thee by moon­light, though hell should bar the way…
What really is on my desk:  All that stuff, and a mon­ster stack of papers I swore I’d file last week­end.
The gra­nola bar wrap­per from my mid­night snack.
A wash­cloth (I have no idea).
A bot­tle of Jo Mal­one per­fume that smells like choco­late (I’m fix­ated on per­fume these days…no idea).
The book The Emo­tion The­saurus, which is awe­some.
Sarah Addi­son Allen’s book Gar­den Spells, loaned to me and next up for read­ing.
My Kin­dle, which needs charg­ing.
Cell phone and house phone and last plumb­ing receipt, because I needed their num­ber this morn­ing for the lat­est plumb­ing prob­lem (Glam life of a writer!)
A deck of Tarot cards (don’t ask).
The box and pad of paper I’m using to keep a “Hap­pi­ness” record of 2013.  Remem­ber how that sug­ges­tion went around Face­book right before Christ­mas?  I loved it!  So at our fam­ily New Year’s Eve party, each per­son got a box in which to record all the happy events of the year, so that we can go over them next New Year’s Eve.  I’m already fill­ing mine like crazy.  Funny how many happy things you notice when you decide to be on the look­out.

Do you read books more than once? If so, name one. What’s spe­cial about it?  Yes!  Lots of them.  But to pick just one…I’ve loved the Rex Stout Nero Wolfe mys­ter­ies since I was a pre-teen. The two main char­ac­ters are Nero, the bril­liant fat man who can’t be both­ered to learn how a golf club works until he needs to find out how it killed a man, and his young, ath­letic, sexy “leg man” employee Archie, who loves to dance and play poker. They are so real, so like­able, so smart and sassy and just plain fun, that they have become true friends.  I re-read the books when I’m sad.  Or lonely.  Or happy.  Or any­where in between.  I even named our dog Lily, after Archie’s adorable dancing-millionaire girl­friend, Lily Rowan.

What do you read? Do you read dif­fer­ent gen­res when you’re writ­ing vs. not writing? Oh, absolutely!  When I’m writ­ing, I can’t get near a romance, for fear I’ll let the writer’s voice infect mine.  If the writer is great, I’m afraid I’ll sub­con­sciously imi­tate her.  If the writer is terrible…same fear! Mys­tery, hor­ror, his­tory, court­room dra­mas, young adult—I love good books in every genre!  Here’s a weird but entirely won­der­ful list of some of my recent non-romance reads:
The Sus­pi­cions of Mr. Whicher, Kate Sum­mer­scale.
Drood, Dan Sim­mons
Sis­ter, Rosamund Lup­ton
The Perks of Being A Wall­flower, Stephen Chbosky
The Magus, John Fowles
Gone Girl, Gillian Flynn
Defend­ing Jacob, William Lan­day
When not writ­ing, I gob­ble up the books writ­ten by some of my favorite romance-writer friends.  I never have enough time to read all I’d like of Nancy Robards Thomp­son, Kather­ine Gar­bera, Cindy Kirk, Ellen Hart­man, Deb Salo­nen, Linda War­ren, Tara Tay­lor Quinn, Kay Stockham…the list is nearly end­less.  I only wish my free time were, too!

Do your char­ac­ters have sex on the page? On which page do they have their first sex­ual encounter? Def­i­nitely!  Sex is one of the most bliss­ful parts of falling in love—and one of the most com­pli­cated.  The story wouldn’t seem fully told if I didn’t explore how (and if) they’re able to com­mu­ni­cate physically. I have, rarely, writ­ten romances in which the char­ac­ters didn’t have sex dur­ing the book, but only when the sit­u­a­tion makes that choice real­is­tic for today’s pas­sion­ate, adult cou­ple.  In one book, the hero­ine had an infant, recently born out of wed­lock, and no mat­ter how fab­u­lous the hero was I just couldn’t see her tak­ing any chances on pre-marital sex at the moment. On which page?  On the per­fect page, of course!  The love scene can take place prac­ti­cally right away, or nearly at the end of the book.  These peo­ple are very real to me as I’m writ­ing, and their per­son­al­i­ties and sit­u­a­tions dic­tate their choices.  I hon­estly don’t know for sure until I watch them inter­act, and lis­ten to their inner thoughts and fears.

What’s the strangest thing you’ve ever done in the name of research? Oh, no con­test on this one—I had one research expe­ri­ence that was just awful!!!  Some years ago, I wrote a very dark roman­tic sus­pense (Quiet as the Grave, for the Har­le­quin Sig­na­ture Select line), in which my hero and hero­ine had to solve a sadis­tic mur­der com­mit­ted by a very sick bunch of whackos who called them­selves “The Mul­li­gan Club.” I am a pretty shel­tered female, so I knew I’d have to spend hours research­ing what sex­ual whackos actu­ally do.  And oh, wow, there is some dis­gust­ing stuff going on out there!  I saw pic­tures that made my inner convent-school girl faint dead away.  And I got on some spam lists that still turn my inbox pur­ple, even now. But my read­ers seemed to think the book was pow­er­ful, and it was one of my RITA final­ists, so I guess it was worth it.  I guess… 

What kitchen uten­sil would you be? Why?  Let’s see…I’m not much of a cook, unfor­tu­nately, so most of that stuff is very mys­te­ri­ous to me.  No, wait!  I know!  I’d be the spat­ula!  I’d be the one reserved for scrap­ing the brownie bat­ter out of the big sil­ver bowl. Yum.

What makes you happy? So many things.  In my fam­ily, I’m kind of a joke that way.  When­ever a song comes on the radio, they insist that I always say, “That’s my favorite song in the world!” But I was brought up to believe that the per­son who enjoys the most stuff is the win­ner.  Being haughty or judg­men­tal was con­sid­ered kind of dumb.  It meant you couldn’t find the beauty or joy in things. In no par­tic­u­lar order, I love—reading, corny fifties music, swing­ing on  play­ground swing sets, any­thing that puts the wind in my face, my kids, BBC cos­tume dra­mas like Pride and Prej­u­dice and Down­ton Abbey, Doc­tor Who (David Ten­nant style), Ewan McGre­gor and Ralph Fiennes and Daniel Day Lewis, going to the movies, food that I don’t have to cook, play­ing with col­ored pen­cils, Ire­land, Indian Rocks Beach, my kids, my adorable hus­band, col­ored cut glass, antique post­cards, Mozart, the Bea­t­les, Cas­tle, rain, board games, my kids, walk­ing, bike rid­ing, poetry… See what I mean?  It might be eas­ier to list what doesn’t make me happy. Other than the usual uni­ver­sal sus­pects, like war and injus­tice and zom­bies, I can think of three things.  Cook­ing.  Clean­ing.  Hav­ing a cold.  That’s about it.

Email/social media before or after you start writing? Aw, come on.  You know I’m going to have to lie, or else I’ll get in trou­ble with my editor…my boss…my family…my convent-school-girl con­science…
(Before.  After.  Dur­ing.)

Thanks so much, Kath­leen, for being my first cap­tive vis­i­tor in my Inter­view Room. You can learn more about Kath­leen at her web­site.