I’ve known Margery Scott for a while. When she published her first western romance, Emma’s Wish, I bought it because of our friendship. This was at a time when I wasn’t finishing a lot of books I’d purchased – or even picked up from the library. Not because they were bad, but I was crazy busy and they just couldn’t compete with everything going on in my life. I started to read Emma’s Wish, kind of expecting the same thing to happen. Instead I found myself whipping through it. Delighted. Margery brought the characters to life, and it was a joy to read about Emma and Sam and Sam’s three children.
Now I have Margery’s other books on my Kindle, and I’m so pleased to have her as my guest today to tell us about two of her loves.
Edie, thanks so much for inviting me to visit Magical Musings today. You asked whether I prefer to write historical western romances or romantic suspense.
Do I really have to choose? I love them both. Does that make me fickle? Unfocused? Scattered?
I’ve always loved history, except in high school when learning was confined to politics and wars. I wanted to learn about the people, what they wore, what they ate, how they lived and loved. My love of history probably came naturally since I was born in Scotland, a land steeped in history. My heritage goes back to Robert the Bruce, and many of my ancestors were Border reivers who spent their lives stealing cattle – and the flag – from the English. I have yet to write a Scottish historical, but I do have an idea brewing. There’s something about a man in a kilt with a giant Claymore. 🙂
When I moved to Canada, I was introduced to US television and westerns – Wagon Train, Gunsmoke, Wyatt Earp, etc. Both Emma’s Wish and Wild Wyoming Wind are set in the US west, and I’m looking forward to writing more western historical romances, too.
I’ve also always loved a good scare. Not the gratuitously graphic horror movies of today, but psychological thrillers. I grew up on Alfred Hitchcock, the master of suspense. Remember the shower scene in Psycho – black and white film, no gore, but scary as H-e-double hockey sticks? But since I also love a happy ending, stories of men and women falling in love in the midst of danger and fear really appeal to me. Devil’s Harvest is exactly that – a murder mystery/ romantic suspense with a medical twist.
Leave a comment for a chance to win an electronic copy of Devil’s Harvest. Edie will announce the winner on Saturday. Here’s a short excerpt:
Think about it.
Taryn couldn’t stop thinking about it as she picked up her speed and followed the path leading past the fountain and into the trees. Mason was murdered. Even though the police hadn’t confirmed it yet, she was convinced. The puncture mark on his neck wasn’t made by anyone trying to resuscitate him. She’d bet on it. And if he was murdered, and Luke’s friend didn’t die the way they said she did …
The path wove beneath a canopy of shadowy oaks. She picked up speed, her jumbled thoughts skipping through her brain with every step. She didn’t trust Luke. But he needed her help.
Her mind wandering, she only faintly registered the rustle of pebbles skittering from beneath someone’s feet. As they grew louder, she turned, ready to move aside for a faster runner. He was moving quickly, and it was only as he drew closer that she realized he was wearing a ski mask and gloves.
He was chasing her.
But why? Her heart thundered in her chest. Her knees quaked. She increased her speed. The gap narrowed. Her breath heaved, burning her lungs. She couldn’t run any faster.
She shot a quick glance behind her, her panic rising. Her foot twisted on the uneven ground and she stumbled, crying out as her knees and palms scraped across the gravel. As she tumbled down the embankment, twigs clawed at her skin. Dirt ground into her. Dust stung her eyes. Her head collided with something solid. Pain rocked through her. Her vision began to swim.
Dizzy and disoriented, she tried to crawl away. A sharp pain surged up her leg when she moved. Nausea welled up inside, and she knew she was going to be sick.
Through a haze, she looked up. The man who’d been chasing her was standing at the top of the embankment. Watching her. As he slowly began to pick his way down the hill towards her, the world went black.
Edie here, with a question. What about you? Do you just read one genre? Or, like me, do you enjoy reading more than one genre? I do get on a genre kick sometimes, but after a while the books start sounding like each other. I need the variety.