Already I'm lovin' the cover! And that's before I read Donna's blurb. Now that I've read it, I have to get me a copy of this book. Congratulations Donna!
To begin, I want to thank you, Louann for having me here today!
Secrets of Jenkins Bridge is my baby. My first book I’d written. The one shelved for three years. How did it come about? I’ll start at the beginning.
I’ve always wanted to write a book, but really never had the time to sit down and do it. Since I had to stay home with my daughter (long story), I gave it a shot.
Fast forward to early 2008. I had finished the manuscript and edited it. I titled it Second Chance and got working on the query letter. I had one goal – to have it published with Harlequin for their Intrigue line. After all, they were like the top romance publishing company (as far as I was concerned). And I read so many Intrigues, I thought I kind of knew what they were looking for. I sent out the query letter and within two weeks I had a response: they wanted the full manuscript. So, off I sent it practically hysterical someone wanted to read it.
But alas, I was rejected. And it killed me inside. I was crushed big time. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I went to Connecticut that summer as my aunt was dying only to come back to huge marital issues. I packed and returned to Connecticut for a full year. We reconciled and I returned to South Carolina. During that year, I didn’t touch my writing. Not knowing what I wanted to do or which direction my life should head in, I pulled Second Chance back out and reread the rejection letter. After all, it was detailed at least. And after reading over my manuscript, I realized the editor was completely right.
I began ripping it apart with the help of my newly found critique partners and discovered a diamond in the rough so to speak. I worked on it little by little as I worked on another book, The Swan Cove Murders, which was published by Soul Mate Publishing. Thanks to my critique partners, I renamed it Secret of Jenkins Bridge. I sent it to my editor and within two weeks said she loved it, wanted it, and sent me a contract for it.
Then, came the wait on the edits. First round went okay. Again, this was my baby so I was having some trouble with changes. Second round was even more excruciating. We had set a release date for December 18th and then January 25th. I couldn’t get the edits finished in time for both dates as I was working a full time job, with Christmas, more marital issues, and then the grandbaby (now 7 months old) and the daughter moved back in with us. Can you say UGH? (And yes, this is the same daughter).
Fast forward … My editor and I weren’t seeing eye to eye on the last couple of chapters. I had to stop editing and step back. I concentrated on my third book for a while. But, I knew my edits weren’t going to go away. I had to face it and put on my big girl’s pants. And I realized she was right. I set out and made the changes, rewriting the last couple of chapters per her suggestions. And guess what I found out? My editor rocks! Because the ending came out awesome.
EXCERPT:
Gladys shook her head, brushing the red clay off her hands. “You’d think they would have fixed this road after two accidents in the last six months. Now this one makes three.”
“Who were the other two?” the female paramedic asked.
“There was that DUI two months ago. That man walked away from the Jeep he’d mangled across the street from here. I think he only had scratches and maybe a bruise or two. Lucky SOB. The other was an antique truck that busted through the bridge wall. He wasn’t so lucky.”
Mitchell held himself steady. A twisting pain ripped at his heart with the mention of the second man. Mitchell’s best friend, Aidan Delaney. At least he had been before Mitchell left town fifteen years ago.
“So, who do we have and what’s the story?” Gladys asked the paramedic, snapping Mitchell out of memory la-la land.
They followed the paramedic toward the ambulance. Gladys and the other woman continued to talk.
As they rounded the corner to the back of the ambulance, Gladys stopped short, causing Mitchell to nearly collide with her. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he croaked, and then cleared his raw throat. “What’s the victim’s name?”
The paramedic shook her head, blonde ponytail swishing. “We don’t know. Haven’t found any ID yet, and she’s a little confused. Has a nasty bump to the head.”
Mitchell let Gladys climb aboard. Her upward movement stopped in midair, one leg dangling a little too close to Mitchell’s jewels. He jumped back as she whipped around, almost losing her balance. In a barely audible tone, she said, “I know her.”
“You know practically the entire town.” Mitchell gestured toward the victim. “Say something. Who is she?”
Her gaze stared off in the distance above his head. “It’s just so weird. It’s the widow whose husband drove off that bridge a few months ago.” She pointed toward Jenkins Bridge, the old wooden-covered overpass in the distance.
An icy chill ran up his spine. Gladys moved aside, giving him full view of Katherine Delaney. She may be battered and bloody, but Mitchell could never forget her face, her high cheekbones, or the tiny, turned up nose. Shit.
Their eyes met, and his chest instantly tightened, his throat constricting.
Something was wrong. She seemed to stare through him. Surely, she recognized him. He hadn’t changed that much. He managed to find his voice. “Hello.”
To begin, I want to thank you, Louann for having me here today!
Secrets of Jenkins Bridge is my baby. My first book I’d written. The one shelved for three years. How did it come about? I’ll start at the beginning.
I’ve always wanted to write a book, but really never had the time to sit down and do it. Since I had to stay home with my daughter (long story), I gave it a shot.
Fast forward to early 2008. I had finished the manuscript and edited it. I titled it Second Chance and got working on the query letter. I had one goal – to have it published with Harlequin for their Intrigue line. After all, they were like the top romance publishing company (as far as I was concerned). And I read so many Intrigues, I thought I kind of knew what they were looking for. I sent out the query letter and within two weeks I had a response: they wanted the full manuscript. So, off I sent it practically hysterical someone wanted to read it.
But alas, I was rejected. And it killed me inside. I was crushed big time. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I went to Connecticut that summer as my aunt was dying only to come back to huge marital issues. I packed and returned to Connecticut for a full year. We reconciled and I returned to South Carolina. During that year, I didn’t touch my writing. Not knowing what I wanted to do or which direction my life should head in, I pulled Second Chance back out and reread the rejection letter. After all, it was detailed at least. And after reading over my manuscript, I realized the editor was completely right.
I began ripping it apart with the help of my newly found critique partners and discovered a diamond in the rough so to speak. I worked on it little by little as I worked on another book, The Swan Cove Murders, which was published by Soul Mate Publishing. Thanks to my critique partners, I renamed it Secret of Jenkins Bridge. I sent it to my editor and within two weeks said she loved it, wanted it, and sent me a contract for it.
Then, came the wait on the edits. First round went okay. Again, this was my baby so I was having some trouble with changes. Second round was even more excruciating. We had set a release date for December 18th and then January 25th. I couldn’t get the edits finished in time for both dates as I was working a full time job, with Christmas, more marital issues, and then the grandbaby (now 7 months old) and the daughter moved back in with us. Can you say UGH? (And yes, this is the same daughter).
Fast forward … My editor and I weren’t seeing eye to eye on the last couple of chapters. I had to stop editing and step back. I concentrated on my third book for a while. But, I knew my edits weren’t going to go away. I had to face it and put on my big girl’s pants. And I realized she was right. I set out and made the changes, rewriting the last couple of chapters per her suggestions. And guess what I found out? My editor rocks! Because the ending came out awesome.
EXCERPT:
Gladys shook her head, brushing the red clay off her hands. “You’d think they would have fixed this road after two accidents in the last six months. Now this one makes three.”
“Who were the other two?” the female paramedic asked.
“There was that DUI two months ago. That man walked away from the Jeep he’d mangled across the street from here. I think he only had scratches and maybe a bruise or two. Lucky SOB. The other was an antique truck that busted through the bridge wall. He wasn’t so lucky.”
Mitchell held himself steady. A twisting pain ripped at his heart with the mention of the second man. Mitchell’s best friend, Aidan Delaney. At least he had been before Mitchell left town fifteen years ago.
“So, who do we have and what’s the story?” Gladys asked the paramedic, snapping Mitchell out of memory la-la land.
They followed the paramedic toward the ambulance. Gladys and the other woman continued to talk.
As they rounded the corner to the back of the ambulance, Gladys stopped short, causing Mitchell to nearly collide with her. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he croaked, and then cleared his raw throat. “What’s the victim’s name?”
The paramedic shook her head, blonde ponytail swishing. “We don’t know. Haven’t found any ID yet, and she’s a little confused. Has a nasty bump to the head.”
Mitchell let Gladys climb aboard. Her upward movement stopped in midair, one leg dangling a little too close to Mitchell’s jewels. He jumped back as she whipped around, almost losing her balance. In a barely audible tone, she said, “I know her.”
“You know practically the entire town.” Mitchell gestured toward the victim. “Say something. Who is she?”
Her gaze stared off in the distance above his head. “It’s just so weird. It’s the widow whose husband drove off that bridge a few months ago.” She pointed toward Jenkins Bridge, the old wooden-covered overpass in the distance.
An icy chill ran up his spine. Gladys moved aside, giving him full view of Katherine Delaney. She may be battered and bloody, but Mitchell could never forget her face, her high cheekbones, or the tiny, turned up nose. Shit.
Their eyes met, and his chest instantly tightened, his throat constricting.
Something was wrong. She seemed to stare through him. Surely, she recognized him. He hadn’t changed that much. He managed to find his voice. “Hello.”
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