Deborah - It’s difficult to pin point an exact moment, but I remember reading a book one day and feeling dissatisfied with it. I thought about how I would have written it and what I would have done with the characters and setting. From there it grew really. Writing allows me all the freedoms that being a reader does not.
Anne - Tell us about your book.
Deborah - Winter’s Spirit follows the story of Winter McAndrew. She is on the brink of divorcing her philandering husband, Philip, when he dies in a car crash. One year later and with unfinished business; Philip is still earth bound and interfering in his wife’s love life. Trying to make amends isn't always easy when you're dead. Not only has Winter fallen for her old crush, Jack Tobin, but he also happens to be Philip’s cousin. With more complications than a woman needs at Christmas, Winter tries to find peace at her holiday home in The Lake District. However, when she finds herself snowed in with Jack; ghosts, old and new cause quite a stir. Will Winter get her man, or will ghostly Philip put an end to all her festive fantasies?
Anne - Is there a message in Winter’s Spirit you want readers to grasp?
Deborah - The message is simple really; from hurt and deception, love can blossom. A lot of people fall victim to infidelity and loss and they never feel as though life can ever begin again for them. For a lot of people it is difficult to move on, but I want to show readers that it is possible, even after having your heart broken.
Anne - What is the hardest part of writing for you?
Deborah - Possibly getting inside the minds of my heroes is the most difficult. I want to show their sensitive side, but don’t want them to come across as weak. Men suffer from the same insecurities as women do, but they don’t always show their emotions. I’ve tried grilling my husband on these things, but he doesn’t always comply LOL.
Anne - What is the most surprising thing you’ve learned about yourself from your writing?
Deborah - Hmm, I think I’d have to say; that it’s I can’t make macaroons LOL. I wanted one of my characters to make some; they seemed pretty easy on the TV show I watched. I wanted to get everything right in my book, so thought I’d have a go at baking them myself. The result was disastrous. I even featured them in my blog, so readers could have a good laugh at my “research”. Needless to say, I will not be writing that story into my next book LOL.
Anne – We’d love an excerpt from Winter’s Spirit, please. J
Deborah – Of course!
“Oh heck,” she muttered. Not only did the vase shatter, but so too did her sexy daydream. Would it ever be possible for her to get though one of these daytime fantasies without breaking something in the shop? Last week it had been a coffee mug, the week before, a china soap dish. It wouldn’t do to get her sister too suspicious.
“Tut, tut,” came the voice she was fast learning to hate. “Not another one of your smouldering day dreams I hope.”
She turned around to see Philip; floating somewhere between the fragranced soaps and bath bombs.
“I’m starting to get annoyed at you just turning up here uninvited, Philip. Can’t you send out a psychic calling card or something? Or even better, leave me alone.”
He grinned, displaying his still perfect white teeth. Sadly, death had done little to deteriorate his charming good looks. “I can’t leave you until the deed is done. Whatever it may be. You know full well I need to do my good act on earth before I can pass over.”
“Well hurry up and do it. It’s been a full year already. I thought you would have figured it out by now. Haven’t you any idea what it is you need to do?”
“No. I haven’t. Believe me, I wish I could. This situation is just as bad for me as it is for you. I didn’t ask for it. Or this.” He gestured towards his attire. “It’s bloody freezing at the best of times, but this week has been awful. The cold gets everywhere.”
“Perhaps you should have thought about your appearance before you died in a hospital gown. I’ve no sympathy at all. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to tidy this mess before Summer comes in.”
“Ah, yes. You wouldn’t want her to see the evidence of your day dreams would you? If only I could read your mind dear wife. I’d love to know who is occupying your thoughts these days.”
“Well let me assure you, it isn’t you. Now go.” He folded his arms sulkily and vanished into the ether.
“Good riddance,” she muttered, bending to pick up the pieces of the broken vase. Her occasional clumsiness could be explained away, but she shuddered at the prospect of explaining her dead husband’s haunting.
Anne – Where can readers reach you online?
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Are you an author?
Would you like your recent release featured here?
Contact Anne at: annekalbert (AT) gmail (DOT) com
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