Chat with Featured Suspense Author
C.L. Shore today at the Book Boost!
It’s February, the coldest month of the year. It’s February, the month for the annual celebration of romantic love.
Contradictory? Arguably. Life is full of contradiction and paradox. These inconsistencies can be frustrating, but they do keep life interesting, especially when love is involved.
For those who love romance and suspense, I’d highly recommend Nine Coaches Waiting by Mary Stewart. The action takes place in a French chateau, and there are definite areas of resemblance to Jane Eyre; the protagonist comes to the French countryside to assume the role of governess to the young heir to a fortune. There is little doubt as to the motive behind the evil manifesting itself in the grand home, but the mystery lies in the heart of the protagonist’s new love. The reader frantically turns the pages in order to discover if he is a “good guy” or a “bad guy.” It is a great read for a cold winter’s night, while curled up in a comforter with a cup or tea (or glass of wine).
I don’t think of myself as a romance writer. But the first review I received for Seeker of Truth hinted at romance between my amateur detective (Sister Lucie, a young nun), and Jed (the police investigator).
I did want to portray sister Lucie as a sexual being. She is a young widow who still carries the love of her deceased husband with her. Mark, her husband, was Jed’s former partner. So yes, Jed does love Sister Lucie and is protective of her, because of his loyalty to Mark.
The murder victim, Charlene, was Sister Lucie’s childhood friend. She left a religious order, married a college president, and began experimenting with love and sexuality. Unfortunately, her exploration led to her murder. When Sister Lucie learns of her death, she is intent on finding the killer.
Love takes many forms. It can run hot or cold. Love can survive, even in February’s chill. Love is the source for many of life’s celebrations. Happy Valentine’s Day!
A Note from the Book Boost: Thanks for joining us today and thanks for the book recommendation--I must check it out. Hope your cold season is full of warm nights and cozy books! Please tell us more about your story.
Detective Jed McCracken is tempted to dismiss his first phone call of the week as a prank, until he realizes he's talking to his late partner's widow, Sarah. Jed hasn’t spoken to her since her husband’s death and is shocked to discover that Sarah is now Sister Lucie.
She’s distraught over breaking news about the murder of a former fellow nun and intent on finding her killer. Together, they rekindle their lost friendship while untangling a network of deception, lust and greed. Although they appear to be closing in, the killer proves elusive, prompting Jed to persuade Sister Lucie to bait a trap.
Will Sister Lucie outwit the murderer…or become his next victim?
Sister Lucie decided to take a walk around the apartment. Her neck was a little stiff, probably from nervous tension. She rolled her shoulders a couple of times. I guess I was so tense that I didn’t move much while reading those first pages. A book fell from the bookcase onto the floor with a soft thud. She scrambled over quickly to its resting place and picked it up, Look Homeward, Angel. Maybe Mark was agreeing with her.
She opened the volume’s front cover, and an old Polaroid photograph fell to the floor. She picked it up and cautiously fingered the edges. Mark’s gaze met hers. She lay on the edge of the bed and held the photo in her hand, just below the level of the mattress. The picture had been taken on a trip to Michigan about six years ago. Mark stood with his back to a grove of trees. The glint of sunshine sparkling on blue water was in the background. Mark gazed into the camera with his beautiful smoky-gray eyes.
“Thank you, Mark,” Sister Lucie said, looking down at the photograph. “I’m so lucky to have known you, let alone love you and have the experience of being loved by you. I’m so lucky.” She rolled over on her back. Dusk had fallen long ago, but every light in the apartment was on. She held the picture above her head, and then pressed it to her heart. “Thank you, Mark,” she said again. She closed her eyes.
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