An Excerpt from 'A Different Kind of Honesty'

After more sleepless nights than a man can handle, Tony Valentino finds himself unexpectedly face-to-face with the woman he can't forget - the woman he never thought he'd see again.....

 

As he approached the meeting room, the door opened as one of Linares’ team agents came out and shut it quietly behind him. Tony raised his hand in greeting. He couldn’t remember the guy’s name. “Can I go in?” he asked, tipping his head toward the door.

“Sure.” The man wore a weird expression somewhere between a grin and a leer. “I’m just off to find me an application form for the London Metropolitans.”

“Excuse me?” Tony stared at the guy, who smirked all the more under his scrutiny.

“Lady cop that Linares brought over. Oh, she’s a honey.”

“That so?”

“Betcha. She can slap her cuffs on me any day.” Sniggering in a lecherous way, the creep nudged Tony’s side with his bony elbow like he was sharing some private, witty joke. Tony stared after him as he swaggered off down the corridor. Sleazebag.

Turning the handle slowly, he pushed open the door and went in, careful not to make any noise. Ramon Linares turned around and threw him a mock salute and Tony returned it with a nod as he perched unobtrusively on the edge of the table nearest the door. Scanning the room, he saw ten, maybe twelve, agents from Linares’ division spread around tables set out in a U-shape, but he couldn’t make out their faces in the near darkness. With the blinds closed and the ceiling lamps switched off, the only sources of light came from the photographic images on a projector screen and, nearer to him, a small lamp with a green metal shade angled to shine directly on the keyboards of two laptop computers. The desk they sat on formed the bottom stroke of the U. Behind it sat Ramon and to his left a young-looking slim guy. Their faces were uplit by the lamp, an eerie effect that made Tony think of the old trick-or-treat torch gags of his childhood. A woman stood to Linares’ right, her features obscured by a curtain of hair that swung across her face as she leaned forward to type into her laptop. The ends of her hair caught the light and twinkled with a coppery glow. It looked pretty, but that was about the only clue Tony could see with regard to her potential ‘honey’ rating. He turned his attention to the projector screen, but the face he saw there, head on and profiled in typical arrest photographs, meant nothing to him. The screen went blank for a second, and then another image appeared. This one showed two men emerging from either side of a car, probably on some London street, judging from the licence plates and the buildings in the background. Tony stared at it blankly. This one was lost on him too, and he folded his arms—a waste of his time. He breathed a silent sigh through his nose and sneaked a glance at his watch, wondering if this was just the warm-up or if he’d already missed the most riveting part of the proceedings. He found himself thinking of his sparse room at the efficiency building and the fridge with a much-needed beer in it.

The male detective to Linares’ left was reciting a list of names and misdemeanours as the images on the screen flicked by one after the other. Tony swept his gaze around the half-lit faces of his fellow agents. They were all doing the right thing, paying attention and diligently taking notes that would be impossible to read once the lights came on. Biting his lips together to stifle another sigh that threatened to turn into a yawn, he gazed back at the projector screen. This was a favour to Linares, he reminded himself; the beer later would be his reward for perseverance. He watched the images tick slowly by until one appeared that shoved his boredom roughly aside. Tony craned forward, narrowing his eyes in concentration.

“Wait a second. Can I get a closer look at that?”

“No problem.” The English detective passed his laptop over, the screen showing the same photo as the projection. Tony studied it closely.

“I think I’ve seen this guy. You got any more on him?”

“Um…yeah, some more here.”

The picture changed to another shot of the same guy, this time crossing a road. It had been taken from above, as if the photographer had hidden in a room a couple of floors up from the street, but the face could be seen quite clearly. Tony stared at it, trying to make the connection. “This is London, right?” He glanced up at the detective.

“Yeah, it is,” the man confirmed. “But this guy we think had a U.S. connection.”

“I think I might have seen him here, in New York City.”

Ramon Linares spoke. “What do you know, Tony?”

Tony frowned, trying to drag details from the recesses of his mind. “I never spoke to him. But if he’s the guy I think he is, I saw him a couple of times with a wiseguy name of Snowy Vincente.” He looked up at the detective. “Mean anything to you?”

The detective shook his head. “No. But we know he flew out here a couple of times during our investigations, though we could never check it out properly.” He flicked his head in Linares’ direction. “Now it looks like he might be a British contact for something Ramon’s investigating. Do you have a name for him?”

“No,” Tony admitted. “Like I said, I never spoke with him, only saw him with Vincente. Some of the wiseguys knew what he was into, but they didn’t give much away and I couldn’t ask.” He gave a short, humourless laugh. “They said, just the old double Ds.”

“Yes. Drugs and diamonds.” The lady cop spoke for the first time. Something in her voice made Tony lift his head, but he couldn’t place the feeling. He looked over at her, but she was partially hidden by Ramon and he still couldn’t see her clearly. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to see him either; the light shining directly on her desk would make it hard for her to see much more than shadowy shapes around the room.

“His name is Matthew Branton. Matt,” she said. “Means nothing to you?”

It wasn’t what she said that pulled something deep out of Tony’s memory. It was the way she spoke; not just the accent, but something in the sound of her voice that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention—the kind of low voice you had to lean forward to hear, and it would feel like you were being coated with warm chocolate. It brought Tony a recollection of a sweet breath against his ear, something he’d tried to forget in his waking hours but that had regularly slipped into his dreams and played with his senses until he’d woken with his mouth dry and his sheets soaked with sweat. He tried to concentrate and focus on the photograph, giving a single shake of his head to dislodge the crazy thought that poked at his memory like a stone in a shoe.

“Nope, I never heard a name,” he said. “All I knew was they called him

La Gazza.”

She laughed at that and Tony’s insides lurched as an overwhelming feeling of familiarity grabbed his guts. His fist went involuntarily to his mouth and he pressed it hard against his lips.

“Gazza?” repeated her colleague, furrowing his forehead. “What, like the soccer player?”

“No, Danny. It’s Italian for magpie, isn’t it?” The woman leaned forward, directing the question at Tony, and he saw her clearly for the first time. He lowered his hand and looked directly into her indigo blue eyes.

“You got it.”

“That fits. Branton likes shiny things.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch how you recognized him.”

Tony wished it didn’t have to be this way. But maybe it was better, here in this room while it was dark. If she was shocked or embarrassed like he expected, she might at least have a chance to collect herself before the lights were switched on. “I was deep undercover with an organized crime syndicate for four years.” Tony hesitated a fraction of a second before he took a deep breath. “I used the name Joey Pescolloni.”

The air between them seemed to crystallize into strands of fragile spun glass that might snap any second. His breath caught in his throat, Tony watched as the woman reached out a slender hand and held it above the desk lamp to mask the glare. As her eyes moved slowly across his features, he remembered her gentle fingers tracing feather light, fluttering touches over his face.

“Joey Pescolloni,” she said at last, her eyes fixed on his. “That’s a great name. One to remember.”

 

A Different Kind of Honesty is available in all e-formats - visit its page here at Muse It Up Publishing to find out more and buy.  And thanks for reading!

 

 

How AWESOME is this???

Suzannah Safi totally does it again with this amazing cover for my re-release of A Different Kind of Honesty.  There's no end to this woman's talents!  I love it - it's sexy, sassy, passionate and just a little bit dangerous....just like the story.

Check out more about the book here at Muse It Up's bookstore, where you can also pre-order it should you feel so inclined.  There's an excerpt at the bookstore too, and just because I love you so much, I'll treat you to another right here.  Enjoy!

 

Leaning her chin on her hand, Maggie looked at him for a moment before she decided to take the plunge.

“Okay. Danny, when I was in New York, I, um…had a fling. A brief thing, a one-nighter.”

“What?” Danny looked incredulous. “You told me you were only actually in New York for one night! Bloody hell, you didn’t hang about, did you?” He started to laugh. “I thought you gave up one night stands after the college days.”

 “I did,” Maggie squirmed. “But this was sort of…different.”

“Oh, I see. Different.” Danny nodded in an annoyingly superior, knowing way. “A head over heels, caution to the wind, never to be repeated, special offer kind of different, right?”

Maggie gave a short, embarrassed laugh. “Something like that. Actually, a lot like that.”

“Aw, so sweet, my little chicky!” Danny reached out a hand and patted hers. “But it’s not as if it was your first time, or your last, let’s hope. So why all the panting ingénue stuff?”

Maggie sighed, a mix of wistfulness and longing that surprised her. “Because here’s the thing,” she said, her thumbnail between her teeth. “And you are not going to believe this.”

“Ha! Try me, girlfriend.” Danny took a swig of Bud. “There’s something hot about this one, I can tell.”

“It was him.”

Danny creased his brow as he pretended to think hard. “Nope. I’m going to need a little more than ‘him’, I’m afraid.”

Maggie cleared her throat, suddenly feeling nervous. “Okay. It was the guy we met today. Valentino. Tony Valentino.”

Danny’s lips wiggled around an ooo. “You are kidding me! Absolutely no way!”

“Yes, way,” Maggie said miserably.

“I don’t believe it. Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure, it’s not like I do it every day!”

Danny was opening and closing his mouth like a demented goldfish. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me? You spend one night in New York, you sleep with the FBI, and you keep that to yourself? You selfish cowbag! I may never speak to you again.”

Maggie shook her head and kept her voice low. “No, Danny, listen,” she said urgently. “I didn’t tell you because I shouldn’t have done it.”

Danny’s elbows slipped off the table in mock astonishment. “What are you talking about, you shouldn’t have done it? What, with that hunk? Good God, I’d shag him, and I’m straight.”

Picking up her water, Maggie paused with the bottle at her lips. “Somehow, I suspect you’re not his type. What with you not being a girlie and all.”

“For a guy like that, I’d change. And I’ll pump you for the sordid details in a minute, Lawless, but what the hell do you mean you shouldn’t have done it?” He pulled a face. “C’mon, he’s gorgeous, even more gorgeous than me, if that’s possible. I’m not seeing the problem.”

Maggie flopped back on her seat and heaved a sigh that came right up from her boots.

“Danny, just think about it. I meet this guy called Joey Pescolloni. He won’t tell me what he does for a living, says he has bits of business here and there. The guys he knows

all have shiny suits and signet rings.” She peered at him to see if any of this was sinking in.

It wasn’t. “Look. He takes me to a place called, oh, I don’t remember, La Speranza or La Gondola or something. Everybody in the place is flashing big bundles of cash.” She tipped her head to one side. “Is this waving any flags at you yet?”

Danny did his worst Robert de Niro impression, lifting his shoulders right up to his ears, hands open in supplication. “So whaddya know, he’s Italian, he likes pasta? Badda boom, badda bing!”

“Exactly! Badda...whatever. That thing you said.”

Danny’s jaw dropped halfway to the table. “Oh, my giddy aunt,” he said, leaning on each word as realization began to dawn. “You thought he was Mafia! Some wiseassed wiseguy.”

Maggie covered her face with her hands. “Yes, I did, I did…”

“So why the hell didn’t you just walk?” Danny couldn’t contain his laughter now. “You know, ‘excuse me while I powder my nose’ and just leg it through the bathroom window?”

Maggie squeaked. She opened her hands a tiny gap and peeked out. “Danny, you know why, you said it yourself. He’s gorgeous!”

“Ah.” Danny folded his arms and looked at Maggie in smug satisfaction. “Oh, now it makes sense. You were already too far gone in lust and Lambrusco. Lawless, you total trollop!”

Maggie slumped onto the table, her head on her arms. “I’m not,” she said in a small voice. “I’m female and breathing. Any woman would have done the same.” She looked up, trying to retain what little dignity she had left. “And it was a rather nice Pinot Grigio, thank you, not Lambrusco.”

“Whatever. He plied you with booze and had his wicked way. Or you plied him. Stop kicking me under the table.”

“You deserve it. Anyway, it wasn’t like that. I just fancied him like mad, and when I realized he felt the same, well, you know…”

“There was no stopping you.”

“There was no stopping either of us.” A sudden pang of sweet memory made her gasp. “Oh, Danny, it was quite a night.”

The waitress arrived with their order and the sort of enthusiasm that would have her telling them to be sure and eat up all their vegetables because it would make them nice and strong. Maggie fired a look at Danny, telling him in no uncertain terms to shut up until they were done. She smiled her thanks at the waitress, who beamed beatifically at them one more time and went off to bestow her blessings on some other lucky customers. 

Danny attempted to lift a burger as big as the plate it sat on without losing any of it. “So, when are you going to spill the gory details? Coz I want to be sitting somewhere cosy with another beer in one hand and a ciggie in the other when you do.”

“I’m not telling you anything else, you dirty sod.” Maggie pushed her salad around the plate with her fork, stabbed a chunk of tuna and peered at it before she dropped it, appetite gone.

“Are you going to eat that or just torture it?” Danny asked, chewing happily.  “Anyway, there is one thing you absolutely do have to tell me.”

Maggie looked at him, eyebrows raised. ”And that would be?”

“That would be…what are you going to do about it now?”

“What do you mean, now?” Maggie stared at him in horror. “Nothing!”

“Aw, do me a favour.” Danny paused in his chewing to lick mayonnaise from the side of his hand. “I twigged the way he was looking at you when the lights came on in that room. I thought it was coz he was looking forward to an introduction. I didn’t know he’d already had the pleasure.”

Maggie dropped her fork. “You’re making that up.”

“I bloody am not. You think I don’t know how a bloke looks when he’s thinking about rampant sex? I see it every time I look in a mirror. Trust me, he’s got the same fond memories of your sordid little adventure as you.” He dipped a French fry the size of a house brick in some ketchup and munched, speaking with his mouth full. “Possibly even fonder.”

My summer break!

My blog - including The One-Link Lowdown - is taking a short summer break while I move house with my family and get settled down at last into our 'forever' home.  But keep checking in, as I hope to have news soon about my next release, a contemporary women's novel, A Different Kind of Honesty.

See you soon!

The One-Link Lowdown on...Linda Swift!

My guest today is Linda Swift.  Writing for 6 publishers, Linda has ten books of fiction and four short stories currently available, with two additional books and three short stories to be released this year.  She’s lived in many places throughout the world, and while living in the UK in 1999-2000, she visited many of the castles where Mary Queen of Scots was a "guest" and became fascinated with both castles and the queen.  The result of that stay was her latest release, Maid of the Midlands, which will soon  be followed by a sequel, Mistress of Huntleigh Hall.  Welcome, Linda!

What’s the naughtiest thing you've ever done? 

As a small child living in a rural area, I robbed a setting hen’s nest of all her eggs to make mud pies. I took them one at a time, stirring more dirt and water into the mix each time. When I had a pan full, I realized my “crime” might be discovered so I dug a shallow hole and buried the mixture. I didn’t get caught and never did confess until years later when pregnant with my first child. I suppose I was wondering what secret sins my own child might commit later on and I told my mother about the incident. She accepted my story as the unimportant act that it was but my belated confession certainly lifted a heavy weight off my conscience! 

What’s the worst job you've ever had? 

In the early days of my marriage I was a stay-at-home mother, my husband was in a work training program, and money was scarce. I didn’t want to take a regular job and leave my children so I sold cosmetics door-to-door for a few hours during the day while my mother babysat. I hated every minute of it. I am not a natural born salesperson and knocking on the doors of strangers was pure torture.

I think I’d hate that too, and I admire you for sticking with it!  So in complete contrast, tell me about the best job you've ever had.

I have it now. To be able to write books, have them published, and experience the response of people who read them is a dream realized. I enjoyed my work with children in public education in three states over a number of years, but always in the back of my mind was the desire to be a published writer. Creating stories, receiving new covers, the release of the finished product, having book signings, presenting programs about what I do, all are very satisfying. I even enjoy the editing process! Did I mention getting royalty checks? Okay, I’m working longer hours for less pay than any job I’ve ever had except selling cosmetics, but this not about money as any truly dedicated writer knows.

What would be your perfect day?

I would sleep until I woke naturally, have breakfast of my choice, take a walk, work in my study. I would meet a friend for lunch. In the afternoon maybe work for a while or read or nap. I’d go out to dinner with my husband, watch the evening news on TV, read the newspaper and/or a book. About midnight, I’d be ready for bed again. I am never bored staying home and doing simple things. Did you notice that cooking or doing housework was not included in my day? I would have paid help for that, of course.

It sounds like bliss, especially the bit about no housework!  Linda, what's your favourite sandwich, and where in the world is the best place to eat it? 

A chicken salad sandwich (with pecans and grapes in it) on rye bread would be perfect served at an outside cafe on Coronado Island overlooking the Pacific.

I might just have to try out that recipe, it sounds delicious!  Which household chore would you happily give up forever?

Only one? How can I choose a “least” favorite? I suppose cooking which seems so boring day in and day out. I don’t mind preparing special meals for holidays but the repetition of doing this over and over depresses me. But to my credit, I love to iron. Too bad almost everything now is wrinkle-free or else supposed to be worn with wrinkles!

What talent or skill would you love to have that you don’t have now?

I would love to be able to play piano and I took lessons for a few months as a child but they didn’t “take” on me. So I did the next best thing by marrying a man who played piano (and now electronic keyboard) beautifully. I also wanted to have a beautiful voice and be able to sing well but I only mouth the words when I sing in church to avoid those nearby wondering how a frog got into the building. Both my son, daughter, and son-in-law are musical and are working or have worked as professional musicians. All three were in a Broadway musical that toured the country for two years, so my wish has been granted in a convoluted way

Indeed!  And as I know you’ve said before, you make music with words, Linda!  Tell me, what drives you seriously nuts?

People who make fun of other people. I think this is the ugliest character trait anyone can have. To laugh at someone for whatever reason is probably an effort to cover insecurity and lack of self-confidence but that doesn’t excuse it.  People who don’t do what they say they will comes a close second. And people who don’t give credit to others for what they do or take credit for what they have not done is also on my list.

Which animal do you think you’re most like, and why?

I’m probably most like a cat. I am independent, and I love to curl up in a warm place indoors and do nothing. But I am loyal like a dog and so persistent that my husband says I am like a “dog with a bone” when I set my mind on something. I am also verbal like a mockingbird. So I suppose I’m really an enigma whatever species that is.

What’s the best review you've ever had?

My best review was actually a composite of four 5-star reviews (Long and Short Reviews/ Manic Readers/The Romance Studio/You Gotta Read Reviews) and Romantic Times  for my Civil War saga, This Time Forever. These reviewers compared the book to Gone With The Wind and the TV mini-series North and South. All of them “got” what I was trying to say, felt empathy for both sides of this tragic war, loved my characters as I did and validated my ability to research and create a story that was worthy of the subject. This was the “book of my heart” and in my heart I know it is the best work I will ever accomplish. It was rejected many times when submitted by my then-agent and I almost despaired ever seeing it published. Then, ironically, this US Civil War story was accepted by a Canadian publisher and through no planning on my part, it was released in the first year of the Civil War Sesquicentennial commemoration. Fate? I like to think so. 

A definite meant-to be!  Linda, it's been great getting to know more about you today, and I know my readers can catch up on all your news and books at your One-Link here to your website.  Thanks so much for visiting - good luck in all that you do!

The One-Link Lowdown on...Carol A. Spradling

A special start to the week as the Lowdown breaks its Friday habit with my guest Carol A. Spradling. Carol recently took back control of her writing by breaking away from the publishing norm and branching out independently - and she's never looked back. Her historical novels are vivid and compelling, and her latest, Shades of Gray (not to be confused with another work with a similar name!) is pulling in five-star reviews. I'm delighted she's my guest today - not least because she's one of my dearest friends! Welcome, Carol!

If you could retrieve one thing from your childhood, what would it be?

A cement heart. When I was eight years old, my grandfather made a walkway on the side of his house. He formed the leftover cement into a heart shape and gave it to me. It was lost when we moved.

What would be your perfect day?

A perfect writing day is back dropped with a heavy rainstorm, and a Twilight Zone marathon playing on the tv for company. A perfect non-writing day is spending time in the mountains with friends and family.

What’s your favourite sandwich, and where in the world is the best place to eat it?

OMG, Dunn’s Deli in Banner Elk, NC has the best sandwiches. My favourite is called The St. Patrick’s.  It is a grilled corned beef with melted muenster cheese and, here's what makes it special, it has warmed potato salad on the sandwich. It isn't a trip to the mountains without a visit to Dunn's.

That sounds delicious!  It sounds like the USA has perfected the art of sandwich-making, and I wish I could try them out!  Now, I know you're a girl after my own heart, so tell me - which household chore would you happily give up for ever?

If you were to ask my husband, he might tell you to phrase that question in the past tense. I’m not nit picky when it comes to housework. As long as my house gives the resemblance of clean, I’m good. Dusting seems to be my least favorite thing to do.

What talent or skill would you love to have that you don’t have now?

I would love to be able to sing. I can’t carry a tune to save my life.

What drives you seriously nuts?

People who drive under the speed limit and come to a near-dead stop to make a turn.

I know them!  The ones who don't want to use up all their gears at once, as my husband says!  Now - you're given a time travel machine - where would you go, and why?

I would zip to the future and take advantage of modern medicine. Then, shoot to the past when life was enjoyed at a much slower pace.

What's your guilty pleasure?

My husband and I love to eat out, nothing high end, mostly burger places.

Quite right, it's good to treat yourself!  Carol, if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

I would want to be more intelligent. It seems to take me forever to catch on to things.

What single invention would change your life for the better?

Traveling at the speed of thought. I could visit friends and family and still be home in time for dinner. 

Carol, it's always a pleasure to talk with you.  Our readers can find out more about Shades of Gray here at your One-Link to its Amazon page.  Thanks for being my guest, and I wish you so much good luck in all you do! 

The One-Link Lowdown on....Margay Leah Justice

My guest today, Margay Leah Justice, is a gal who dodges life's curve balls with style and grace, and I'm sure she'd be the first to admit it's her love of the written word that's seen her through many a rough patch. Her first novel, a paranormal romance called Sloane Wolf, is now available form Muse It Up Publishing. I'm so pleased to meet this lovely lady, and I know you will be, too. Welcome, Margay!

If you could retrieve one thing from your childhood, what would it be?

My collection of Crissy and Velvet dolls the ones with the hair that “grew.” I loved those dolls!

What’s the naughtiest thing you've ever done?

Hmm, this one could get me into trouble! I actually went parking with a guy in a cemetery once. Sounds creepy, but it was actually kind of peaceful there.

Tell us three surprising things about yourself, one of which is a fib - and we'll try to guess the fib! 

I have met Patrick Swayze and rubbed elbows with several other famous people such as Mary Tyler Moore, Dudley Moore, and Paul Michael Glaser.

 

I used to teach aerobics.

 

I’m fluent in five languages.

 

I so want meeting Patrick Swayze to be true as he always struck me as a very lovely man. Margay, tell me - what’s your favourite piece of music?

One of my all time favorite songs is Unchained Melody, it’s just a really beautiful song. Plus, there’s this scene from the movie Ghost with Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze where it figures prominently that just gets me every time I see it.

Yes, that's a real classic - in fact, the song and the movie both. What talent or skill would you love to have that you don’t have now?

I always wished I could play an instrument, like the violin.

What drives you seriously nuts?

Bad drivers – and I think the majority of them live in Massachusetts! Seriously, people, those signs and lights aren’t there for decoration. Oh, and those folks standing in the crosswalks – they’re not there to watch you drive, they actually want to cross the street.

Which animal do you think you’re most like, and why?

A cat. Well, for one, if you look up my name, it is a type of wild cat (though I wasn’t named after the cat – it’s just a coincidence!). But I think it’s also because, however I fall, I somehow manage to land on my feet. Plus, I love naps!

I can relate to the catnap thing! Now, I'm lending you my personal time travel machine for the day - where would you go, and why?

Regency England. There’s just something about that time period that really calls to me, which is probably why I love books like Pride and Prejudice and anything by Julia Quinn so much.

What's your guilty pleasure?

I am a sucker for sweets – I love chocolate and cheesecake and the like. If I could eat it all the time and not gain a pound, I’d be one happy woman. What am I talking about – the threat of weight gain has never kept me away from a good piece of cheesecake – or chocolate!

It's scientifically proven that chocolate makes you feel good, you know! Margay, if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

I wish I wasn’t a procrastinator – or a perfectionist. I think I could get so much more done if I didn’t put it off until later – and then try to get it too perfect.

I think keep doing what you're doing, because it's obviously working! Friends, Margay's lie is that she's fluent in five languages - I'm so pleased that meeting Patrick Swayze is true!  You can find out more about Sloane Wolf here at Margay's link today. 

 

Margay, it's been great meeting you - good luck in all that you do!

The One-Link Lowdown on...Jane Toombs.

My guest today is writer Jane Toombs. Born in California, she now lives in the beautiful Upper Peninsula on the shore of Lake Superior. She's written more than eighty books in both paper and electronic formats for publishers such as Silhouette, Zebra, Harlequin and Avon. Her latest, Deception’s Bride, is a historical romance that will be up on Amazon shortly as an ebook from Books We Love. Ltd. Welcome, Jane!

If you could retrieve one thing from your childhood, what would it be?　

My diaries.

What’s on your bedside table/nightstand?　

Meds for the next day, bottle of water, Kleenex, clock.

What’s your favourite piece of music?

Practically anything by Glen Miller (Yeah, I go waaay back)

They say vintage style is very fashionable at the moment, though! Jane, what's your favourite sandwich, and where in the world is the best place to eat it?　

Peanut butter-banana sandwich on marble rye at my kitchen table while working a crossword puzzle.

Which household chore would you happily give up for ever?

Changing the cat’s sandbox.

Ewww...I'm with you on that one. Jane, what talent or skill would you love to have that you don’t have now?

I’d love to be able to sing in tune.

What drives you seriously nuts?

Mindless drivel instead of intelligent conversation.

Sadly, there's an awful lot of it around these days. Which animal do you think you’re most like, and why?

I’d like to be like a cat, except I‘m clumsy and cats aren’t. But I do tend to be picky abut friends and tend to be a loner. Although I like being petted by the right person.

What’s the best review you've ever had?

I’d say from my writing instructor, a published mystery writer who told me Tule Witch, the book I’d finished and he’d critiqued in class, was good enough so that he was willing to send it to his agent. (He did, it sold to Avon and that was my first published book in 1973.)

That would be pretty hard to top, I'd imagine! Jane, last question - if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

I’d like to be taller. Short people are often at a disadvantage.

Very true. I'd like to be a little taller, too. As they say, size matters! Readers, you can find out more about Jane's books at today's One-Link, her website.  Thanks so much for being my guest today, Jane. Good luck with all your future projects!