Were you an avid reader as a child? What type of books did you enjoy reading?
Reading has been a lifelong hobby of mine. Add to that a keen fascination with the supernatural and you have my childhood! Even as a young reader, I loved spooky, quirky stories; books filled with ghosts and enchanted places. I love to be taken by surprise and have always enjoyed stories that could make me cry or scare me silly. Years later, I try to incorporate those same elements into my own stories.
Tell us a bit about your latest book, and what inspired you to write such a story.
My latest book, Whispers in Autumn, is part two in my Love on the Lake series. The first book, Shadow Lake, features Emma Beckman, a young widow who goes to Shadow Lake Campground in search of summer employment and ends up finding the love of her life. In “Whispers,” I take my readers back to Shadow Lake when Emma’s friend, ghost whisperer Dove Denning, goes to the campground for Emma’s wedding and finds it full of restless spirits. I have previously written three paranormal romances and was itching to get back to that genre. A haunted campground seemed the perfect opportunity.
How would you describe your creative process while writing this book? Was it
stream-of-consciousness writing, or did you first write an outline?
I always do a basic outline of where my stories will start, where they will end up, and the key plot points I will put in the middle. But as always, these characters took me by surprise and added twists I hadn’t originally planned. To me, that’s the magic of storytelling.
Did your book require a lot of research?
Yes, the book required a lot of research, but a lot of it had already been done while researching for my previous works. I never throw so much as one tidbit of fascinating information away, so even though I may not have included things like auras and doppelgangers in other works, I have notebooks full of information on such things. Researching the supernatural world, I tend to get awfully sidetracked.
If you could have any vice without repercussions, what would it be?
Definitely spending money frivolously. In these challenging economic times, I think we’ve all had to learn to be more frugal, to make choices about what we spend our money on. If I could spend without having to worry about paying it back, the sky would be the limit!
What is the funniest/most embarrassing/scariest story from one of your books signings or events?
A few years ago I was invited to do an author chat and signing at one of our local libraries. About ten minutes before the event started, the crowd literally began to shuffle in. I was surprised to see that most were of the geriatric set. During my reading, one old gal actually took out her knitting! That was definitely an event I’ll remember for a long, long time!
If you could have been the servant to any famous person in history, who would that be and why?
I’d have to say Jesus Christ. I try to serve Him in my life by being kind to others, but what an honor it would have been to serve Him literally. I enjoy cooking, and would have loved to serve up a batch of chicken and dumplings for Him and the disciples after a long, hard day of fishing.
What so you see for the future of publishing and ebooks?
More and more, we live in an electronic world. For those of us who grew up loving printed books and the whole experience of brick and mortar bookstores, it’s not something we will let go of easily. But as our generation is phased out and replaced by the younger, modern e-generation, I think that paperbound books will eventually go the way of eight-track cassettes. I just hope it doesn’t happen in my lifetime.
Which of your characters do you love/hate/fear/pity the most and why?
I love each and every one of my heroes and heroines, but I would have to say the one I admire the most is Darby Sullivan in Waiting for the Rain. Due to a set of incredible circumstances, he’s an old-fashioned man struggling to live in a modern world. I threw a lot of obstacles in his path and he rose above them all. When forced to make a tough choice he does the right thing. Even though it costs him everything.
Do you get along with your muse? What do you do to placate her when she refuses to inspire you?
Like any other writer, I have a love/hate relationship with my muse. She’s unpredictable, and often temperamental. When I have the time to sit and write, she is often not compliant. She likes to whisper the most incredible story ideas into my ear at the most inopportune moments, like when I’m driving on the thruway, or sitting in a faculty meeting.
Do you have another book in the works? Would you like to tell readers about your current or future projects
I do! I’m currently gathering ideas for my next installment in the Love on the Lake series!!
Have you ever experience weird cravings while you write? If so, what kind?
Coffee is such a great motivator and I’ve used it for a reward so many times that writing just isn’t the same without it! There’s a great little coffee shop in town with the most wonderful selection of gourmet blends that I go most every Saturday morning and buy the largest size they have. Fully armed, I’m ready to go home and tackle that blank computer screen.
If you had to write yourself as a villain, what kind of villain would you be? What would you be named?
Oh, goodness. I wouldn’t make a good villain. I’m too much of a softie.
What is the strangest source of writing inspiration you’ve ever had?
Out for a Sunday drive, I once took a photo of an intriguing old abandoned house. When I got the film developed, weeks later, I looked at the picture and could swear there was a face in an upstairs window. That photo became the inspiration for my debut novel, a paranormal romance called The Winds of Autumn.
If your muse were to talk behind your back, what secrets would he/she tell?
She’d probably tell you that I’m just the teensiest bit obsessive/compulsive in my writing habits. For instance, when I hear a song that fits the tone and mood of one of my stories, I’ll listen to it over and over again until the project is finished.
You have to ask a fictional character out on a date—who would you ask and what would you do together?
I’d go horseback riding with Tom Booker.
Where can readers find you on the web?
Readers are invited to visit my website at:
Excerpt from WHISPERS IN AUTUMN
Available March, 2010 from Black Lyon Publishing
In the bathroom, she slipped out of her dress and pulled on a nightgown. She washed her face, brushed her hair, and headed back to the living room, yawning. A night of driving and a day of festivity had finally caught up with her. Sleep would come easily this night.
Crossing the room to pull the curtains closed, she froze when she saw a figure standing on the dock; a young girl in a black bathing suit. Her skin was milky white, her hair long and untamed. Dove pulled in a breath. Don't get involved...
She closed her eyes, exhaled softly. When she opened them again, the girl was still there, regarding her pensively with her dark, shadowy eyes.
Don’t...
Ignoring her inner voice, Dove slid open the door and stepped outside. She stood without speaking, her gaze locked with that of the specter.
You can see me? The girl finally asked.
Yes.
None of the others can.
What do you want?
I want ... I want you to tell him I'm sorry. Please?
Who?
She choked on a sob. My dad.
Who are you?
Silence fell like a thick, dark veil. The ghost drew closer. Shivering in her nightgown, Dove braced herself against a blast of frigid air, against the sheer, raw strength of the emotions that swirled like a cyclone inside the girl. Images exploded in her brain, one after another: a small girl splashing in the water, running with a jar of lightning bugs, riding piggyback high on a man's shoulders. She watched as each impression gave way to the next, as the pretty little girl became a lovely young woman. She saw her competing in a high school swim meet as a crowd of onlookers cheered, dancing in a lavender gown, a string of pearls around her pretty neck, riding a ten speed bike, her hair dancing in the wind. And then came a final, horrible image. A blood curdling scream as she plunged head first into the icy lake, her hands groping blindly in terror and confusion as the water closed in around her.
Dove nearly buckled beneath the force of its fury as the specter fought to gain entry into her being. Summoning her inner strength, she steeled herself against the onslaught until she felt its energy begin to weaken. Its fervor lessened and then disappeared, leaving only a whispered breath of air in its wake.
I'm Chelsea ...
