I didn’t know I could write until I was older. I was always a storyteller; that’s different from being a writer. I was a poet, songwriter, and playwright before if ever occurred to me could write novels. I know that sounds weird, but it takes more time and structure to write a novel. There’s all that pesky emotion and introspection and narrative that none of the other things I did required.
I started writing romance in the 1990s. I began to notice that romance was a part of every genre I read, from science fiction to thriller to historical to paranormal to mystery. Then I ran into a few books where I wondered how the person got that book published, and said, “I can do better than that!” After I completed the book, I realized it took ability to write poorly. And my book wasn’t fit to line a litter box.
People always ask me how long it took to write my first book. I always say, “Six months to write, and six years to rewrite.” I’m faster now.
My story, Last Wishes, is my first mystery. The subgenre is Chick Mystery, which is a cozy with a younger, hipper heroine and has some blood, action, and sex. (Miss Marple would never have sex!)
Last Wishes is a murder mystery and study of life in a small Virginia city. In the American South, the location is as much a character as the people in the story. The South has been shaped by the Civil War, sultry, humid summers, moonshine liquor, and Bible-thumping preachers. Its people are patriotic, suspicious of Yankees, and interested in everyone’s business. Southerners also revel in their eccentrics yet hide family secrets beneath layers of lies. As Last Wishes unfolds, the reader learns Jordan Davis is a perfect example of this dichotomy.
In Last Wishes, Jordan obeys the law when it suits her and fulfills the needs of her clients. Right now isn’t one of those times. She knows someone is killing older women in Lynchburg. Is the killer is sexy Judge Grayson Trent or is he her only chance of unmasking the real murderer before she becomes the next victim?
I want readers to have several hours of fun, while seeing if they can solve the mystery before Jordan does and chuckling at life in a small Southern city.
What books have most influenced your life?
I don’t have any specific titles, but rather genres. My ability to adapt and go with the flow, even in the face of “future shock,” comes from having read science fiction and fantasy most of my life. For example, I read a story by Arthur C. Clarke when I was just eight. It was about a communication satellite and control of the world. When the first one actually went up, Telstar I, I was shocked. I thought we’d had them for years. Another genre I love is mystery/thriller, from Nancy Drew and Perry Mason as a child to Daniel Silva and Tami Hoag as an adult. These stories teach and remind me to see beyond the obvious and open new ways to solve problems.
However, if I were to choose two titles I go back to year after year, they would be Jane Eyre and The Count of Monte Cristo. In Jane Eyre, true love is not only possible but triumphs over the most horrendous obstacles. Monte Cristo reminds me that there is justice in this world. This could explain why I write mysteries with romance.
If you had to choose, which writer would you consider a mentor?
Ray Bradbury, because of his sense of wonder, his embracing of the future, and his delicious sense of irony. He writes short stories, novels, screenplays, and stage plays. He’s also an excellent writer from a technical standpoint.
What are your current projects?
I have just finished Clubbed to Death and it should be released in late Spring 2011. In this story, Jordan’s half-sister is accused of murdering the president of the Junior League with a golf club. Now a private investigator, Jordan searches for the real murderer, uncovering a plot targeting foster children that puts her life at risk. Stabbed and Slabbed will come out a month or two later. In this book, Jordan and Gray, while on a honeymoon cruise from hell, must discover who killed an obnoxious comedian, and clear their own names before the ship limps back to port.
Is there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?
Keeping track of the characters and the timeline. In Clubbed to Death, I just knew who the killer was. After all, I plot everything. Then halfway through, I realized she wasn’t the killer. Someone else was. Thank goodness, my subconscious knew before I did, because all the clues were there and I only had to rewrite two sentences.
Can you explain the rising popularity of eBooks?
I have been published in print and electronic formats since 1999. Over the years, I have watched it grow in fits and starts. There is an ongoing need to conserve resources. Space is at a premium. The ability to store thousands of books in one device solves both of these problems. Even with the current e-readers, books are available in regular and large print and audio. Large publishers are like oil tankers, they can’t change their business practices on a dime. This opens the gates for small press and independents that have a lower cover prices. There will always be a place for printed books, art, coffee table books, and photography. I predict by the next generation, the small paperback will be largely replaced by the downloaded eBook.
How did you come up with the title of your book?
My heroine, Jordan Davis, runs a funeral boutique named Last Wishes: You Wish It—We Guarantee It. One of her clients is a murder victim. She leaves a last, secret wish for her godson, which is revealed when the will is read. This wish challenges his sense of self and turns the lives of all those around him inside out.
It is a murder mystery and study of life in a small Virginia city. In the American South, the location is as much a character as the people in the story. The South has been shaped by the Civil War, sultry, humid summers, moonshine liquor, and Bible-thumping preachers. Its people are patriotic, suspicious of Yankees, and interested in everyone’s business. Southerners also revel in their eccentrics yet hide family secrets beneath layers of lies. As Last Wishes unfolds, the reader learns Jordan Davis is a perfect example of this dichotomy.
In Last Wishes, Jordan obeys the law when it suits her and fulfills the needs of her clients. Right now isn’t one of those times. She knows someone is killing older women in Lynchburg. Is the killer is sexy Judge Grayson Trent or is he her only chance of unmasking the real murderer before she becomes the next victim?
Blurb: He was a judge. He didn’t break the law…at least not until he met her. Judge Grayson Trent never suspected the woman his Aunt Becca hired to handle her funeral arrangements would be the very same woman who has consumed his fantasies from the moment he saw her standing before him in court. He soon discovers she hasn’t changed her ways. Not only does she still ignores the rules when it suits her, now she’s a target for murderer. Unless she is the murderer herself.
She wasn’t really breaking the law, just bending it a little…and all for a good cause. Jordan Davis sees nothing wrong in disregarding a silly city ordinance, especially when it interferes with fulfilling the last wishes of her clients. To her Judge Trent is a narrow-minded, overbearing stick in the mud—a very sexy and hot stick in the mud. Until it seems as if he’s responsible for several murders. Maybe the hunk of a judge isn’t as law abiding as she thought. Or maybe, they’re both in danger of being a killer’s next victim.
Excerpt:
“There she is! That’s Jordan Davis! The woman ruining our lives!”
Judge Grayson Trent winced at his mother’s uncharacteristic outburst. Normally her voice never rose above a genteel drawl, except when yelling at him. As he slanted a glance to his right, the idling engine of the motorcycle beside them drew his attention—a red Triumph Rocket III. The rider wore a one-piece red-leather catsuit that he’d swear was painted on the long-legged figure of a Sports Illustrated swimsuit cover model. A full face red helmet shielded her head from view, except for an enticing curly black ponytail brushing her lower back in the breeze.
Attached to the bike’s back, where the second seat should have been, was a red metal cage with rollbar.
He grinned at the panting black miniature Schnauzer, his front paws on the edge of the cage. He wore a custom-made red crash helmet with faceplate and a small black leather jacket. Emblazoned in red letters across the back was “Born to Ride.”
Gray chuckled. “The pooch looks capable of handling the controls.”
“It’s a trap. That sweet animal is just another one of her weapons.” Libby inched forward until they were even with the driver. “You don’t understand. She’s a charlatan! She draws in unsuspecting old people who have money with promises she’ll make their last wishes come true.”
“And this ruins our lives how.” Unable to stop himself from feasting his eyes on that red catsuit, he stared at the dog’s mistress. “Have you been fighting about Becca?”
“Gracious, no. We don’t even talk.”
“So what’s the problem?”
Then she raised the face shield on her helmet.
Their gazes met.
He groaned. “It’s her.”
She was a she-demon, a succubus. He’d seen her once, three thousand miles from here and been on fire since. He couldn’t go to sleep without seeing her dark blue eyes with touches of purple staring at him, beseeching him. Every night he imagined her splayed in his bed, her long, wavy black hair spread over his pillow filling his dreams with heat.
He hadn’t imagined he’d ever see her again. But he’d hoped he would. If he wanted his life back, he had to exorcise her from his mind, and what better time to start then now, on her home turf. That way when he left to return to California, he’d be free of her.
His eyes widened at of the look surprise on her face. Or was that interest? He hoped the former, yet both dreaded and desired the latter. As a judge and knowing what she was, he should have nothing to do with her. He snorted. Yeah, tell that to the fantasies kept up at night and put her face on every woman he was with.
Narrowing his eyes, he returned her look with his most judicial glare, the one guaranteed to put the fear of God into criminal defendants appearing before him.
Except for her.
Surprise lit her eyes. Then she did the damnedest thing—gave him a slow, sexy smile and winked.
God help him. He thought she’d learned her lesson in San Francisco when he almost tossed her in jail for twenty-four hours for defacing public property. Instead, he’d let her off with a fine and warning. If his mother was right, she hadn’t learned a thing.
The moment the light turned green, she shot him a sassy grin, tapped the shield back into place, and peeled off down Boonsboro Road, the schnauzer hanging on for dear life.
My website and blog: http://www.alyssalyons.com
Publisher: Black Opal Books
Last Wishes Released: March 1, 2011
Sale Locations:
Black Opal Books: http://blackopalbooks.com/wordpress/?page_id=626
Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004PGO27W
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B004PGO27W
B&N http://productsearch.barnesandnoble.com/search/results.aspx?WRD=Last%20Wishes,%20Lyons
Nook:
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/44399
ARe: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-lastwishes-519477-173.html
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