Writing is all about bringing to life the “what
if’s” floating around in our minds. I had a “what if” moment during the summer.
I’d thought about people I’ve known who have had near death experiences and
have shared what they saw, felt, and heard. Every story speaks of peace and
contentment, but being denied the opportunity to cross over.
My brain started
clicking. What if, at the end of the tunnel during a near death experience,
instead of an angel or family member, or even God appearing, SATAN came for you?
And what if he wasn’t prepared to send you back to the living? What if he
wanted to claim you, but you were saved and ripped from his clutches?
I’ll let that sit on your brain for a minute… Okay,
so pretty crazy thought, I know, but what a delicious twist to make this story
unique, right?! Read The Book Waitress and you’ll begin a
journey where Good and Evil clash, and the light at the end of tunnel isn’t
what it seems…
Here's the blurb for this first book...
Camille Dutton learned early in life Satan was not to be trifled with. Escaping his evil clutches as a child, he’s come back with a vengeance for her now.
Derek Galloway’s inquisitive nature has led him to be an award-winning investigative reporter and straight into the path of pure evil.
When a child vanishes from a sleepy island town, Camille, its subdued librarian, becomes embroiled in Derek’s investigation. A satanic cult has plans for the child, while Satan has plans for Camille and the rest of the world. Amidst evil of the most supernatural and human kind, Derek and Camille find a shred of light and goodness in the form of their budding relationship.
First in the Book Waitress Series, the portal between Hell and Earth will be torn asunder, and it will take everything Camille and Derek have and then some to close it. Satan won’t go down easy, but nothing worth everything comes without a price.
Here's an excerpt...
“Coming! I’ll be right with you!” Camille dashed
over to her circulation desk to find a tall, blonde-haired man in loose-fitting
jeans and a plaid shirt standing there with slips of paper in his hand, a beat
up backpack slung over one shoulder.
He turned and their eyes locked as she scurried
around the desk and pasted on a professional smile. Thank goodness she’d been
rushing about. It masked the true reason for her breathlessness- his
heart-stopping, blue-green eyes. “How can I help you, today, sir?”
“I’d like to take these out, please, but I don’t
know where to find them.” He flashed a pearly white grin. “I’m hoping you can
help me.”
“Sure.” Looking at his order slips, she noticed they
were all for newspapers. They were kept in a different place from the journals.
She looked on the floor plan taped to the desk and located their home. “Follow
me, please.”
She joined him around the front of the circulation
desk and walked to the far end of the room. Archived newspapers were in a small
room off the main area. His slips listed local and national newspapers for June
of the last six years.
“I’m usually self-sufficient in a library, but I’m
new to the island and this place is quite different from the ones I’ve been to.
So thanks for helping me.”
“No problem. I’m new here, too, actually. Just
arrived about an hour ago, in fact.”
“And you’re on the job already? Wow. That’s what I
call dedication.”
“Here we are, sir.” She opened the door and ushered
him inside. “Newspapers are organized by name, alphabetically, then by year,
month, and day. They cannot be signed out, and I believe they must remain in
this room.”
“Please, call me Derek. You’ll be seeing me here a
lot from now on doing research, so it’s only right.”
“Okay, Derek. Please keep all food and drink out of
the vicinity of the reference materials.”
“Yes, ma’am or…” He stood there, waiting. For what,
she didn’t know.
“Or what?”
“Or maybe you could tell me your name so I don’t
offend you by using that old lady term again.”
“Ah, well, uh, my name is Camille. It just so
happens the term ma’am, originally used in the 1660’s, is really a sign of
respect when addressing a lady who is married. So it makes sense not to use
that term for me since I am not a married woman. If you need anything further,
I’m at the circulation desk. Good luck with your research.” She stepped toward
the door.
“I learn something new everyday, Camille. Thank you.
It’s important work I’m doing here, you know.”
“I’m sure it is. I’m just gonna head out now. New
‘round here. ‘Gotta learn the ropes.” She backed out of the room and closed the
door, hurrying back to her desk where she touched her hands to her cheeks. A
full-on flush had erupted on her face and neck. She could tell just by looking
at her reflection in her computer screen.
