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THE LEGACY OF SLEEPY HOLLOW
Morgan Leshay

“…25 years after the Headless Horseman’s famous midnight ride..."

Katherine Van Brunt, daughter and only heir to the infamous Abraham “Brom Bones” Van Brunt and Katrina Van Tassel, brings back the dead and loses her heart to the son of her father’s nemesis in her quest to save the legacy of Baltus Van Tassel…”

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BOOK OF THE WEEK: Archives
Romance Readers Book Of The Week
November 14, 2005
ARCHIVED FEATURE

THE WIDOWER
by John W. Adams Jr.

Genre: Romance
Format: Paperback
ISBN: 1-4137-6223-9
Publisher: PublishAmerica

Buy This Book:
Available at
Publish America

FROM THE BACK COVER:

“Forty-two year old Jake Ambrose is a man destroyed. He lost his wife of twenty years in a head-on collision, just fifteen minutes after finishing a driveway rebuild of her minivan’s brakes. Falsely accused of murdering her by a brother-in-law with ulterior motives, Jake is eventually found not guilty. But now he’s totally shunned by his family and friends. Estranged from his two children, he elects to move to Phoenix, Arizona and restart his life.

There he meets the beautiful red-haired Melissa Saunders. Though she is fifteen years his junior, each is very attracted to the other; Melissa bears an uncanny resemblance to his departed wife while Jake bears an uncanny resemblance to her departed father. However, Melissa carries a dark secret of her own, one that involves how the teddy bear tattoo came to be on her right ankle.

Can two wounded souls find peace and solace together? Can either of them learn to love again? Can Jake reconcile with his two teenagers? The answers can be found within the pages of The Widower.”

MEET THE AUTHOR:

Born in 1960, Mr. Adams has been writing fiction on a hobbyist basis since 1993, when his mother gave him an obsolete computer. The Widower is his second published novel, preceded by The Path of Healing, and he has a third book coming out in the fall of 2006. In addition, he has four more completed manuscripts awaiting their chance at a publisher. More details can be found on the author’s website at www.johnwadamsjr.com

READ AN EXCERPT:

Chapter one—

“…And that’s about it,” Doria told her job prospect. “We can’t offer a larger wage or benefit package and we do offer a lot of work in return. But we’re close-knit here and that might be a fringe benefit… albeit a small one.” She hesitated a moment. “You’ll be the only man employed here. Will that be a problem?”

Jake shook his head. “No, of course not. But since you’re asking, I’m wondering if other men might’ve thought it a problem.”

A hundred possible replies popped into Doria’s head, but she ignored them all. “Another man I interviewed the other day didn’t think he could fit in. He turned the job down when he found out he’d be one man among eleven women.”

Eleven? Jake thought. “What’s the name of that mythical island that’s home to many beautiful Amazon women, with no men allowed?” he asked aloud, looking amused.

Doria smiled at that; he has a sense of humor, at least, she thought. “I know the story you’re thinking of, but I can’t remember the name of it,” she replied.

Jake nodded. “Well, I hope an Amazon warrior goddess won’t try to execute me for intruding on sacred turf.”

That brought a light laugh; I think he’ll fit in nicely, she thought. “There might be one or two that might think that way, at least at first. But I think they’ll warm up to you in no time.”

“By that I presume I’m hired?”

Doria nodded. “If you want the job, it’s yours. But I’m curious: you could land a higher paying job in a bigger place with little effort. Why come here?”

“Because we need each other,” Jake said simply.

Doria got the sense that there was more to it, but she decided to let it be. “Can you start tomorrow morning?”

“Yes.”

She nodded again. “Okay, then. Let me take you on a tour and show you to your new desk.”

Doria and her newest employee departed her office and headed for a vacant cubicle; he noticed that the cubicle walls were only waist high. “You’re free to decorate your area any way you see fit. Since some of the others have desktop-sized beefcake calendars, I can’t forbid you a girlie calendar. But no big cheesecake posters and no nudes of any size.”

“Of course,” Jake agreed.

When Doria led the male new hire out of her office, word of the event spread quickly. The other ten women were keeping a stealthy one-eye-out and now their patience were being rewarded: the new hire was six feet tall and decidedly handsome. His hair had receded a little, though it was still naturally brown with just a slight silvering at the edges. His bearing was confident and his features nicely lean. The other women judged him to be in his late 30s or early 40s and all except Jennifer approved of the new hire, each for different reasons. Doria then noticed that Melissa was nowhere to be found and she wondered where she could be; it wasn’t like her to avoid her work by camping out in the bathroom or something.

Not counting Doria, Nancy and Debbie—all of who were married—Charlene was the only woman at Weston Printing in the new hire’s age range. Hence, as the single woman with the most seniority in the game of Life, Charlene took it upon herself to swoop in first, thus beating the seven younger single women to the punch.

“Is this our new hire, Doria?” she asked as she approached Jake’s new cubicle.

“Yes. Jake Ambrose, this is Charlene Littleton,” she replied, making introductions.

Jake and Charlene shook hands as the latter took in all the facts and features at a glance. Blue eyes, neat and trim, clean-shaven, sexy smile, widely arched eyebrows and fashionable clothes. A serendipitous glance out the back window just after lunch had caused her to catch her eye upon an unusual car in the small employee parking out; since Charlene hadn’t seen it before, logic dictated it belonged to the foxy newcomer.

“Is that your blue car out back?”

Jake’s smile drooped slightly. “Did I park in your space?”

“Oh, no, no,” Charlene gently soothed. “I just noticed it after lunch. It showed up at the same time you did, so the presumption was obvious. A 1940 Ford, right?”

Jake looked pleasantly surprised; it was rare to find a woman who liked and/or understood classic cars. “Yes, a `40 Ford DeLuxe Coupe. That was one of the reasons I came to Arizona, so I could drive my classics without having to worry about the weather.”

Which was true; the time between snowfalls in Phoenix could be measured in years. Charlene was originally from Missouri and her now-departed father had also liked old cars. Many times her dad would stand in the door leading from the kitchen to their attached garage, during the deepest depths of winter, glumly admiring his classic car and wishing spring would get here so he could take his baby for a jaunt.

Charlene nodded. “When I was a kid in the mid-sixties, my parents had a `60 Mercury Monterey sedan for family use, while my dad drove a `39 Ford Coupe. It had Ardun heads, three Stromburgs and dual Smittys on it.”

Jake looked impressed. “Nothing sounds like an old Flathead wailing through a pair of original Smittys, that’s for sure.”

He noticed Charlene’s friendly smile, grayish-blonde hair, pleasant figure and equally pleasant bearing. But his slight interest in her took a tiny negative turn she said, “My ex-husband blew up the 327 in a `41 Ford two-door sedan we had once.” Jake realized, sadly, that she had made the observation about her ex-husband’s automotive misfortune specifically to inform him that she was available.

As Doria and Charlene watched, Jake’s expression saddened slightly. “I hate to see automotive cross-breeds. Hopefully he learned his lesson and put a Ford engine back into it.”

The women frowned very slightly. Charlene had just cast out a hook but Jake had refused to bite; in fact, he not only refused to bite, he had actually batted the hook away. Not giving Charlene any time to get any feelings of rejection going, Doria indicated that they needed to continue the tour. Charlene took the hint and withdrew gracefully, wondering just what the hell had happened.

Doria showed Jake the paper storage area, the printers, the computer room and the break room. While there, Diana entered. “I was wondering where I left my soda,” she said as she picked up the 12oz can that contained one-fourth of an ounce of Pepsi.

Doria presented Jake to her, doing introductions. Diana was blonde, early 20s and quite pretty. Her outgoing and bubbly personality made him feel at ease; this one, at least, won’t be doing much fishing, he thought. She excused herself and returned to her cubicle.

By way of Jennifer’s cubicle, where Nana, Tiffany and Liz waited.

“Well?” Liz asked.

“Early forties, handsome and stylish, smartly dressed and no wedding ring,” Diana reported. “It could be that he’s never been married, or he’s divorced.”

“If he’s divorced, it’s for a reason,” Jennifer pointed out, disgruntled that Doria had decided to let a male into their exclusive clique. “Maybe he cheated on his wife or beat her or his children. Maybe he raped the babysitter.”

“Maybe the divorce, if any, was done by him `cuz she was cheating,” Nana pointed out. “You just naturally think that a divorce has gotta be a man’s fault.”

Charlene walked up at that point. “Maybe he’s widowed,” she tossed in. She then told her companions about her just-concluded initial meeting and introduction.

Nana and Tiffany were nodding absently to themselves as Charlene told her story; Jennifer had tuned the others out as she tapped the various keys of her computer, having returned her attention to her job. “All we know is that his name is Jake Ambrose and he drives an old classic car. Everything else is a guess,” Nana said, summing up the discussion.

“Exactly,” Tiffany agreed. “We’ll just make things worse—”

Jake and Doria strolled up at that point and Tiffany fell conspicuously silent. “My guess is that these four are standing around and speculating about the new guy,” Doria told Jake. She sounded amused but everyone knew the observation was a slight admonishment to her staff for standing idle when there was so much work to be done.

“That’s understandable,” Jake said easily. “Toss a lone female into an office staffed with eleven men and you’ll have rampant speculation there too. Probably more so, all things considered.”

Doria acknowledged the truth of that and then passed out more introductions. Nana had a terrific figure and a flawless Mexican-American complexion. Tiffany’s sweet blue eyes glittered happily for reasons as yet undetermined. Liz had a remarkably shaped posterior and seemed a tad flustered—though he didn’t have a clue as to why—and the previously met Charlene looked she was putting on a brave-yet-false front for social reasons.

Jennifer spared the new guy a brief and semi-curt nod when Doria got to her during the introductions. Kayla then came up, wondering about the crowd around Jennifer’s cubicle, and Doria introduced her as well.

After a second or two, Jennifer turned away from her computer, appearing to be sizing up Jake. “So tell me, Jake, do you like NASCAR?”

Tiffany leaned toward Jake slightly. “It’s a trap!” she hissed.

He heard the warning but snorted and replied to the question anyway. “How can anyone get excited by watching cars drive around in a circle for as much as five hundred miles? To me, there’s not a lot that’s more boring.”

Tiffany leaned close again. “Good answer,” she stage-whispered.
Jake regarded Tiffany a moment, looking contemplative. “Doria warned me that there might be one or two that’ll need to warm up to the idea of an intruding man in their midst. Is Jennifer the one she was talking about?”

Tiffany smothered—poorly—a smile. “Hmmm… Could be,” she hedged innocently, quoting one of the old Warner Brothers cartoons. Jake noticed the murderous glare Jennifer threw at both Doria and Tiffany before returning to her computer; he filed the information away for later contemplation.

The impromptu gathering broke up as Nancy approached and the others went back to their cubicles. Jake received his introduction to her as well; Nancy was pleased that they had finally added to their staff. With his expertise at design and his knowledge of computers and their repair and/or upkeep, Liz could finally stand down from being on-call if the computers acted up. Though only three years old, it was over-burdened and got cranky at times.

Melissa returned from the parking lot, having forgotten to lock her car’s doors. Though the area was mostly crime-free during the day, her father had drilled it into her head that women always locked their car doors no matter what; Melissa even locked them when she parked in her own driveway. She wondered what had made her forget to lock them this time. Lost in thought, she didn’t see three people standing in the aisle and Melissa walked right into them.

Jake felt something bump into his back. He stumbled slightly and turned to see what had happened… and all his breath fled his body. He felt his eyes widen as his mouth suddenly dried out. Meanwhile, the blood drained from his face.

She was beautiful. Utterly, totally, absolutely and inarguably beautiful. Her dark brown eyes literally stunned him speechless with their large and wondrous magnificence. Her face was perfection itself, all planes and angles, the flesh of which was alabaster cream; her freckled skin reminded Jake of milk with many specks of cinnamon sprinkled on its surface. Her figure was the classic hourglass shape and her skirt didn’t hide her trim waist and utterly flat pelvis. Her legs were lean yet strong, freckled, with a cute teddy bear tattoo on the outside of her right ankle. Tattoos were normally a turn-off for Jake—he considered them something people had done when they didn’t respect themselves—but he felt a tiny-yet-strange pang of jealously that the lucky tattoo was in a position to gaze up her skirt with impunity. Her breasts were perfectly positioned and proportioned for a woman of her size and height. Jake figured her height to be about six inches less than his own six-one.

Then he noticed her hair, though by rights he should have noticed it first. A beautiful cloud of thick copper-auburn follicles adorned her head, trailing over her slim shoulders and down her back in a radiantly shimmering cascade of unparalleled perfection. The color of it all reminded Jake of the antique cedar chest his mother had inherited from her grandmother. He felt his fingers tingle slightly, intrigued with the thought of reverently running through those soft strands of delicious delight.

Our God is generous to a fault if He can send such an absolutely perfect being to stand in the presence of us mere mortals, Jake thought with absolute awe.

Meanwhile, Melissa rebounded slightly from the impact, startled out of her thoughts. She looked to see whom she had run into… and felt something squeeze all the air out of her. Her eyebrows climbed just two millimeters as the blood drained from her face.

He was handsome. Utterly, totally, absolutely and inarguably handsome. His blue eyes were clear and sparkling, his hair neat and attractively styled with the times and turning a dignified shade of silver at the edges; this reminded Melissa of her father and that made him even more attractive. He cut a snazzy figure in his formal attire. His hands were lean and strong looking and his fingernails were clean; a small nit to pick, to be sure, but one would be surprised how many men overlooked that little detail. His shoulders were broad and looked strong, and she found herself wondering what it would be like to be hugged by him.

Whatever brought him here, I’m certainly happy it happened, Melissa thought to herself with emotion bordering on awe-struck wonder.

“Ah, Melissa, there you are,” Doria said brightly. “Was wondering where you went.”

“I, uhh, had t-to check my car d-doors,” she said in reply, stammering slightly, never taking her eyes off Jake. “My dad always told me to lock them, each and every time, and I forgot this time when I came back from lunch.”

“Well, you can’t ignore any advice from your dad,” Nancy said dryly, wrongly thinking that Melissa made that excuse up so she could “accidentally” run into the newcomer.

“Melissa, this is Jake Ambrose,” Doria said, making the introductions. “He’s the new guy we were discussing over lunch. Jake, this is Melissa Saunders.”

“Hello,” he said as carefully as he knew how. For some reason, he felt that he had to be extraordinarily careful while speaking to her; gazing into those wondrous brown eyes made his mind wander to times and places that—for now—were best kept at bay. Jake cautiously held out his hand for a handshake.

“Hello and welcome,” Melissa replied as she shook his hand; her mind took note of the warm and nicely firm grip. “We’ve needed another person on staff for quite awhile.”

Melissa’s cool and slim hand reminded Jake of the smoothest silk he’d ever touched, just as her voice sounded musical and lilting to his appreciating ears.

For an undetermined amount of time, Jake just held her hand as if still shaking it; he felt himself getting drunk and lost in those immaculate brown eyes. But a slight tug from Melissa brought him back to reality. He blushed slightly, wondering how long he’d been standing there holding her hand like a schoolboy on his first date. Jake retrieved his hand but felt a bit of regret when his hand broke contact with hers.

In reality, it had only been four seconds, but it was long enough for Doria and Nancy to wonder if they had just seen sparks fly. “Jake will be starting tomorrow morning,” Doria told Melissa and Nancy… more for Melissa’s benefit than Nancy’s.

“That’s good,” Nancy said as she watched Jake try to covertly admire Melissa. She had seen something like this happen time and time again and it made her feel a bit jealous; Melissa’s red hair and knock-out good looks always drew men’s stares. She knew she had no reason to be jealous since she was happily married, but the feeling still lingered. Just stop it, Nancy told herself. You’re married and Jake’s old enough to be her father. Nothing will happen between them.

Melissa tried to order her thoughts. For some reason, this new guy had rattled her self-of-being all the way down to her core and she wondered why. She resolved to put the silly feeling behind her, writing it off as a passing thing. But she felt quite a lot of regret as the thought of losing the nameless feeling that she couldn’t even identify.

But Jake was a hell of a lot more rattled than he let on. Never in his 42 years had the mere presence of a woman so completely stunned him. Probably because you’ve never met a woman this beautiful before, dumb ass, his mind sneered at him. He even realized that even Mary hadn’t been as beautiful as this glimpse of Heaven named Melissa, though she’d been an utter knockout in her own right. But thinking of Mary made him feel sad and he did his best to shake it off, lest the feeling overwhelm and consume him.

Again.

“Well, I must be getting back to it,” Melissa told Jake, taking her leave but secretly wishing she could stay. “Welcome again. I hope you like it here.” I really hope you like it here, her mind privately and reverently added.

“Thank you,” Jake replied.

Melissa turned away and headed for her cubicle. Jake watched her stride, the confident movement of her legs, the enticing sway of her skirt, the slight side-to-side wave of her lush waist-length red hair and the way she set the heels of her shoes with each step. He felt the air in his lungs turn stale; the mere presence of the red-haired goddess made him forget to even breathe.

Doria and Nancy watched Jake as he watched Melissa walk away. Both of them had seen men react to Melissa like that at the impromptu weekend kick-off parties they had at the local bar on Saturdays. Both women were a bit amused by his reaction, Doria a bit more so than Nancy.

Jake felt a slow stream of air move past his lips. “Mercy,” he whispered inaudibly to himself after Melissa had passed from earshot. He felt his heart pounding and his blood flowing like it hadn’t in quite a long time.

But just because Melissa was out of earshot didn’t mean that Doria and Nancy were.

“Excuse me?” Doria asked politely, even though she knew damned well what he had said and why he had said it.

The question brought Jake back to reality and he glanced at Doria guiltily. “Um, nothing,” he said lamely.

Doria did her best not to look amused. “So that’s the tour and you’ve met everybody. Any questions?” Like whether or not Melissa is available? She added within her thoughts, amused again.

“Just one thing: what time am I expected her for the shift to start?”

“We start at eight in the morning. There’s an hour for lunch at eleven-thirty or thereabouts. Quitting time is at five, but you’re welcome to put in extra time after hours. Which reminds me, I need to get you a key. Be right back.” With that, Doria headed for her office.

Jake and Nancy stood there as they waited for Doria to return. After a moment, she spoke, “Melissa’s quite attractive.”

Jake felt his facial color rise as his insides quivered slightly. He cleared his throat nervously, feeling as guilty as he knew he looked. “Yes, she is.”

“Does… she remind you… of someone?” Nancy asked cautiously.

The last thing Jake wanted to do was talk about the woman that had so completely flustered him, at least not until he’d had time to contemplate the situation and order his thoughts. He knew it would be unseemly and unprofessional to turn into a stammering and blushing fool every time he laid eyes on the absolutely amazing Melissa.

“Umm… no. No, not really,” he said finally. Jake wondered if he should have made something up about a past girlfriend that Melissa reminded him of, but that little white lie might come back to bite him in the butt later.

Doria returned and presented him a key. Jake accepted it and put it on his key ring. Then, with all the business settled, Doria and Nancy bid him farewell until tomorrow.

Meanwhile, Melissa was sitting at her desk, her head slightly bowed as she willed her insides to settle down. She looked at her slim and freckled hands and noticed for the first time that they were trembling.

This can’t be happening to me, she thought to herself. He’s old enough to be my father, for the love of Pete! This can’t be happening to me!

“He likes you,” came the sound of a voice.

Melissa jerked her head up with a guilty start. Doria stood in the doorway to her cubicle; so involved was Melissa in her inner dilemma that she hadn’t noticed the other woman’s approach. “What?” she asked, sounding disordered and pre-occupied.

“He likes you,” Doria repeated, obviously amused. “I’ve seen men react to you like that before, but never with such open, honest and outright intensity. Figuratively speaking, he took one breath at you and was knocked breathless.”

When a natural redhead blushes, it’s usually an award winning performance and Melissa was no different. “Oh, fiddle,” she scoffed, feeling—and inwardly cursing—the heat of her blush on her facial flesh. “He’s old enough to be my dad.”

"Which doesn’t change the fact that you stunned him speechless,” Doria countered. “Just because he’s fifteen years and six days your senior doesn’t mean that he can’t find you attractive.”

 “What do you mean?”

“I saw on his application that his birthday is August 6, 1960. You already know that you were born on August 12, 1975. He’s fifteen years and six days older than you,” Doria explained. “So he’s not really old enough to be your dad.”

“A person is physically capable of having sex at fourteen,” Melissa countered testily. “My parents always told me I was conceived on Christmas Day, 1974. Jake was fourteen then and it’s physically possible for a boy to father a child at that age, hence, he’s old enough to be my father.”

Doria pursed her lips slightly; Melissa was right even though Doria felt she was needlessly nit picking. “Well, that’s true,” she admitted. “But he isn’t your father and he is both attractive and available. He digs you and I know that you also dig him, so why not just—”

“Doria,” Melissa said firmly, “I’m quite happy without a man in my life right now.”

The older and wiser Doria eyed the younger and flustered Melissa for a moment. “Are you trying to convince me of that?” she inquired calmly. “Or yourself?” And with that Doria turned away and headed for her office, leaving her question hanging in the air like a cloud.

After a moment, Melissa turned back to her computer. For some reason, Doria’s question rattled around in her head and blocked all other thoughts from her mind. Though she wanted to ignore it, Melissa knew her friend and boss was right: in about four months, she would turn twenty-eight years old. She liked her career but she didn’t want to become a widow to it.

It’s been almost ten years since Zack broke your heart, her mind said to her. When are you going to realize that all men aren’t created evil?

Melissa forcefully shoved the thought back into the out-of-the-way corner of her mind that she had banished it to long ago. With utter ruthlessness, she cleared her mind and started up on her latest project again, determined to keep her mind—and her life—clear of any entanglements.

***

Jake climbed into his car and closed the door. Staring at the rim of his steering wheel, he willed his insides to stop trembling. The problem was that his interior components weren’t in the mood to cooperate.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to remove Melissa’s still-smoldering image from where it had been burned into his retinas. It certainly wasn’t easy; her eyes were almost identical to Mary’s wide and beautiful brown eyes. Considering the way she died, not to mention the amount of time that had passed since then, it would be damned-near impossible for Jake not to find himself comparing his memory of Mary’s eyes to the physical appearance of Melissa’s eyes.

At that point, Jake became aware of the air inside his car getting warm and slightly stale. With both doors and their respective windows shut, there was no circulation and the sun was warming the trapped air as Jake breathed the oxygen out of it. He put the ignition key in the switch and started the engine, then activated the air conditioning system. Cool air started flowing from the vents in short order.

How are you going to handle being around Melissa? His mind wondered. You can’t run and hide every time she tries to talk to you. It’s time for you to face it, dude, Mary is gone. You can’t let every little reminder of her start you weeping.

Jake’s teeth clenched in anger; his inner voice was right but he hadn’t recovered enough from Mary’s death to admit it. Melissa’s wondrous brown eyes were identical to hers and the reminder of that would be almost constant. Even if Melissa’s eyes had been hazel, blue, green or something else, she was still a stunning bit of womanly artwork and he would’ve made his presence known to her in due time anyway. But if a relationship with Melissa was in the offing—despite the obvious difference in age—Jake wondered how he was going to handle gazing lovingly into Mary’s eyes while making love to Melissa’s body.

Will you knock it off?! he told himself savagely. Hell, she’s probably got loads of men at her beck-and-call, 24/7, and she won’t look twice at a guy that’s her father’s age!
But telling himself that fact merely made him feel all the more sad and lonely.

Feeling his eyes mist up and hating himself for it, Jake firmly thrust the shifter into Reverse. The Coupe backed from its parking spot and, after another gear change, he aimed it for the parking lot’s exit.

He didn’t see Melissa standing in the second floor window Charlene had used earlier, watching his car as it drove away.

ROMANCE READERS CHATS WITH THE AUTHOR:

How and why did you start writing fiction?

At a family Christmas party in 1992, I overheard my mother talking with her sister (my aunt) about her garage sale exploits, which were the stuff of family legend.  I butted into the conversation and basically did a stand-up comedy routine with my mother as the butt of my jokes.  I went on and on about how I’d seen my mother plow through fences, knock over live oaks, grind fifty miles of use off of a set of tires and slaughter helpless chickens in her hyper-dedicated and unnerving quest to get to a garage sale when she chanced upon it.  You know the bootlegger 180-turn used on “The Dukes of Hazzard”?  My mother invented it!  Not really, but stuff like that was the subject of my routine.  By the time I had run out of steam and things to say, everybody was laughing it up at Mom’s expense.  She took it like a trooper since it was all in good clean fun.  A moment later, Mom wagged her finger at me and said, “you know, the way you can spout bullshit off the top of your head like that, you oughta write a book!”  Well, I laughed along with everyone else, thinking that comment was her verbal revenge for dissing her like that.

But two weeks later, in January 1993, she showed up unannounced at my door one day with an even-then ancient Amstrad PC-1212-DD personal computer.  “You laughed off what I said, but I was serious,” she said of her gift.  “You’ve got a good gift for telling stories and it would be a shame to waste it.  So use this computer and think of something to write.  It doesn’t matter what you write, just write.”  So I took her advice and haven’t looked back.

Why romances?

I was quite overweight in school and I couldn’t get a girl’s attention or a date even under threat of blackmail—although I would never resort to that!  So while I was goofing around with the computer as I was learning to run it, I wrote romances as a way of being successful—in my mind, anyway—with women.  The male leads of all my books are basically based on myself and how I’d react to a given situation, and it’s a good way of coming to grips with my angst-riddled past while having fun spinning an interesting story.

Are all your books romances?

No.  I have written seven books to date and The Widower is the fifth book written, even though it’s the second one published.  The Guilty Ones, my third book written and third book published—due to debut in the fall of 2006—is a comedy looking at the car guy’s Ford vs. Chevy debate.  Two Roads to Reunion is a historical drama and is currently being considered by my publisher.  If accepted, it’ll debut in the fall of 2007.

Your books seemed to be spaced to come out one year after the other.  Are you doing this deliberately, and if so, is it for a specific reason?

Yes and yes.  I hope to become a nationally known fiction author on par with Stephen King, Anne Rice or the late John Steinbeck.  One book’s sales should be tapering off just in time for the next one to debut.  This keeps my name in front of fiction readers without over-saturating the market or the people who buy fiction novels.  I hope to give up my 9-to-5 job and make a comfortable living as a fiction author, living solely on my royalty checks.

What, if anything, inspired you to write The Widower?  Are you widowed?

No.  I’m not widowed, but my father is; my mother died in 1999 and never saw any of the books she urged to me write get published.  The inspiration for writing The Widower came from watching the news.  I saw a report of a man that died in a private airplane crash, just minutes after accepting his plane back from a mechanic that had just finished the airplane’s legally required annual inspection.  I changed some of the specifics in my mind, going from a mechanic and his customer to a husband working on his wife’s vehicle for her.  Then I added a protagonist in the form of a scheming brother-in-law that falsely accused his sister’s husband of murdering her for her estate and insurance payout.  This laid out the book’s basic plot and I fleshed out the characters from there.

How long did it take you to write this book?

About four months of after work and weekend time.  Although I’m college educated, I work in an unskilled blue-collar factory position and I occupy my mind with composing book text and dialogue while my hands drone about their tasks on autopilot.  When I get off work for the day, I go home and transcribe that shift’s thoughts and text into my computer.

If The Widower should happen to be selected to become a major Hollywood motion picture, which actors would you want to star in which major roles?

For the male lead Jake Ambrose, I’d like to see either George Clooney, from the movie “Intolerable Cruelty” and TV’s “ER”, or David Ducovney, from the movie “Evolution” and TV’s “The X-Files.”  For the female lead Melissa Saunders, I could only accept Alicia Witt, from the movie “Two Weeks Notice” and TV’s “Cybill.”  She’s a natural redhead that has the talent, complexion, attractiveness and big brown eyes the role requires to match the text of the book, and she is in the proper age range when compared to Clooney and Ducovney.  For the role of Melissa’s mother Catherine Saunders, I’d like Julianna Moore from the movie “Evolution,” or Marg Hershberger from TV’s “CSI.”  Both are beautiful and talented natural redheads to match the text in the book.  For Melissa’s brother Larry Saunders, I would request the red-haired man that played the ditzy brother of Christopher Titus on the short-lived TV show “Titus.”  (Sorry, but I don’t remember the man’s name.) Jake and Melissa’s boss Doria Weston would be played by any one of the four female stars of the BET series “Girlfriends.”  Doria’s business partner Nancy Heileman would be played by Poppy Montgomery of TV’s “Without a Trace.”

Let’s say you just received a huge royalty check.  What would your plans be?

I’d pay off all my financial obligations and move back to Arizona, where I had the pleasure of living for six years.  Then I’d look into self-publishing my completed manuscript entitled Better Late Than Never.  I’ve shopped that book to four different publishers and all have declined it.  It’s strange… I have been told that it’s too tame a romance for Ellora’s Cave, and it’s too hot a romance for Harlequin, and to alter it either way to please either of those publishers would ruin the story.  I hate to resort to self-publishing—if a book is good enough to be published, an author shouldn’t have to pay for it to get published—but I have been told by several people that the book is good and deserves to be published, despite the squeamishness of some publishers.  I would then offer the book for sale on my website with a direct click-link to that secondary publisher’s website.  Of course, I’ll advertise it on www.wickedlyyours.com

Please list all your completed books to date, in the order they were written.

The Path of Healing was first, followed by Wishes and Revenge.  Next is The Guilty Ones and Better Late Than Never is the sexually charged romance I mentioned earlier.  My fifth book written is my second book published and the one we’ve been discussing here, entitled The Widower.  My sixth book is another sexually charged romance entitled Old Flame, Rekindled.  Lastly, Two Roads to Reunion is book number seven.  Book two will be submitted to my primary publisher in the future, and books four and six will most likely be self-published and offered through my website (and advertised on Wickedly Yours.com) as funds permit.  I already have a signed contract in hand for book three, and my publisher is currently has book seven under consideration.

I presume you intend to write more books.  Can you tell us about them?

Sure.  I have pretty firm concepts rattling around in my head for at least three more fiction novels.  One is entitled Around The Circle Again, another is called The Cougar Convertible.  A third book idea currently doesn’t have a working title yet, but that’s not a problem since I’m going to write the previous two books first.  I also have a nebulous and unformed idea for a fiction novel that I might call Acts of Kindness.  I just struck on that book concept while driving home from grocery shopping and thinking of the unobtainable girl of my dreams from high school.

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