As those of you who read my blog posts here and have read my novels already know, I’m not a writer who sticks to one type of story or theme. Most publishing experts would tell me that’s where I go astray. Readers like to know what they’re getting. I should pick a “brand” and stay with it to attract more readers with my stories and here on One Writer’s Journal too.
But I’ve never wanted to be “Brand Ann,” even if it does have a pleasant alliterative sound. In my books, I like coming up with people, er characters, and bringing them to life to share their stories.
Here on my online journal, I like the freedom to write about first one thing and then another to share with you, my reading friends. That’s how a journal should be, except most journal writers don’t leave their journals wide open on the kitchen table where anybody can read it. That’s what I do for you, and I thank you for reading my words. I never take that for granted.
This is a rewritten post from some years back when my book Words Spoken True was on e-book sale the way The Innocent is now for another day or two on Amazon. Sorry, but Words Spoken True isn’t on special e-book sale right now. Even so, I wanted to add yet another book to the Shaker books and the Rosey Corner books you can choose from if you are my winner.
Words Spoken True is definitely a bit of a departure from many of my books. For one thing it’s set in the city of Louisville instead of my usual small town or country setting. Even the Shaker books are sort of small town type stories with the Shaker village settings. Then, the story has a stronger romantic feel than my Shaker books and my family centered stories even though those books have their share of romance too.
Words Spoken True has a little of everything. A beautiful, independent heroine. Newspaper history from the mid 1800’s. Dramatic and tragic 1855 Louisville history about what is known as “Bloody Monday.” A dashing hero. Fancy balls. An old stray dog. And surprisingly enough, a serial killer. The seed of that addition to the story also came from my research of the 1855 history.
So, in case, any of that has grabbed your interest, here’s a bit of the scene where Adriane meets Blake Garrett, the editor of the newspaper competing with Adriane’s father’s paper. They ran into each other earlier in the day while Adriane was chasing after a story disguised as a young boy. At the time, she didn’t know who he was and he thought she was a young boy messing around somewhere he shouldn’t be. Now they are both at an afternoon social.
Adriane could hardly believe her eyes when she looked across Mrs. Wigginham’s parlor and saw the man who had grabbed her down at the riverfront that morning. It couldn’t be, but there he was. Staring directly at her. Her heart began pounding madly as she fought the urge to flee back out the front door before the man could recognize her.
She might have lost the battle and run like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight if she hadn’t caught a glimpse of herself in one of Mrs. Wigginham’s many mirrors. Her breathing slowed as her panic receded. In spite of his sharp eyes, the man would hardly make the connection between the ragged Irish boy he’d grabbed in the dim light of the street lamps and the picture of a lady she presented now. And what did it matter if he did? No one would believe him even if he were ungentlemanly enough to speak of it.
She lifted her head a bit defiantly but did not look in the man’s direction in spite of the way she could practically feel his eyes burning into her. Perhaps it had nothing to do with her early morning visit to the murder scene but was simply because she looked so out of place in her dark cranberry dress among all the pastel skirts of the other young ladies. He looked as out of place himself in the same rumpled suit he’d had on that morning, but it wasn’t just his unpressed coat. It was more that he seemed too large for the room, as though he’d had to corral his energy in order to play attendance on Mrs. Wigginham.
Adriane had the crazy desire to raise her eyes and meet the man’s brazen stare directly to challenge his memory. Saner thoughts prevailed. She kept a polite smile firmly on her lips and pretended not to notice him at all while Stan helped her off with her cloak. ….
There was no denying the man was handsome, Adriane thought, as she slid her eyes quickly past him again. Black hair curling across his forehead. Eyes almost as dark. Skin that showed he was outside in the weather a lot. A dark mustache that surprisingly sprouted a few red hairs. A mouth that seemed to want to curl into a smile but did not. Broad shoulders stretching the material of that wrinkled coat. He was not the typical guest at one of Mrs. Wigginham’s afternoon functions.
Yet everyone else in the room, including Stan, seemed to know him. In fact Stan muttered under his breath as they crossed the room, “What is he doing here?”
Hope you enjoyed this little tidbit from the book. I really enjoyed writing Adriane’s story. Lots of action and excitement in this one.
This is the last post before I pick a winner. So, one more time to leave a comment to get an entry or if you’ve left comments on the previous posts, another entry. Thanks to all of you who have been reading these posts about some of my backlist books.
Do you think Blake is a hero you might like to know better?
