Hidden Secrets ~ Coming Soon to a Bookstore Near You! by Jannine Gallant

NOVEMBER 27TH is a big day--for me, anyway. HIDDEN SECRETS releases! This is the final book in my Siren Cove series and the last chance to see one of my books on the shelves of bookstores across the country. And in Walmart! Maybe sometime in the future I'll get another mass market contract. Maybe not. Just in case this is it, I'm hoping all of you will take a photo in a store with my book (yes, I want to see you in the picture, too). After the big day, I'll put something up on Facebook where you can post them. I mean, you'll be out there Christmas shopping, anyway, right? So mosey over to the romance books, find my baby, and snap a picture. There just may be a prize in it for you! And if you want to buy the book while you're there, even better. LOL

HIDDEN SECRETS is actually getting nothing but great reviews (knock on wood) on NetGalley. Since I've had some bad experiences with trolls there, this is pretty remarkable. Or maybe my book is just that wonderful! (I'm joking! Sort of...) Here's one I particularly liked from Kim V.

"You know it's coming, there's nothing you can do about it though. Yelling at the book doesn't help either. Ugh! Hidden Secrets, is such a great book. Many suspects kept me guessing."

That's the kind of visceral response you want from a reader! Here's a short excerpt from my villain's point of view, so you can see what got the reviewer so worked up.

With the wind flapping the tarp, he spread the square of plastic out beside the dead woman and rolled her body into the center. Long, brown hair tangled across her face, which was as white as her dress had once been. Now, the clinging material was caked with damp sand and stained a dark red.

This time, he’d used a knife to slice across the throat. He wasn’t particular about his weapons. Any sharp object that would get the job done, or a blunt one for that matter, was acceptable. Whatever was handy. The satisfaction came in watching the life force fade away, not in the method he used.

A psychiatrist would probably have a field day analyzing him.

He rolled up the bundle and secured it with a rope, then hauled away more of the sand that had been stained beneath her body. It was pushing seven before he finally finished. Gathering up the cleaning materials, shovel, and buckets, he shoved them in his pack with the flashlight and took a long look around. Nothing but pristine beach for as far as he could see. Except for the bulky package. After shrugging on the pack, he heaved the tarp-wrapped body over his shoulder and thanked God she was light. He’d ditch the last of the evidence somewhere a rushing creek wouldn’t expose bare bones in the future. He was too smart to make the same mistake twice.

In an hour, the job would be finished . . . until the next time.

If you're wondering what happened to the romance in this book, don't worry. There's a really sweet friends to lovers trope that plays out over the course of the book. In fact, here's a sample.

Why the hell did he kiss me?

After quietly closing the door behind her, she leaned against it and simply breathed. The kiss was no big deal. A spur of the moment impulse. It wasn’t like a single random kiss—even if it involved tongue—was going to ruin their friendship and make things awkward between them.

Was it?

She stripped off her clothes and dropped them into the hamper, then put on a pair of soft cotton shorts and a tank top, along with her fleece robe. She’d scurried into the bathroom and was scrubbing the enamel off her teeth when a knock sounded on the door.

“What?” she yelled through a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Are you okay?”

She spat in the sink. “Of course.”

“Can I come in?”

She thought about it for a moment. “Sure. Join the party.”

He pushed open the door and gave her a cautious smile. “You left abruptly.”

“You were on the phone.” Maybe if she didn’t mention the kiss that had rocked her world, he wouldn’t either.

“It was Blaze. That woman doesn’t give up. She wants to come down here.”

“And?” Paige rinsed out her mouth.

“What do you mean, and? I told her no way. I tried to be nice . . .”

“Maybe that’s the problem. Nice is overrated.”

“So, I shouldn’t be nice and apologize for losing my mind and kissing you?”

There it is. He just couldn’t leave well enough alone.

She decided to go for the direct approach. “Why did you?”

“You literally fell in my lap. Gut reflex when confronted with soft lips and even softer curves. I’m only human, and you were sitting on my—”

“Stop!” She held up a hand. “I’m taking my soft everything and going to bed. Feel free to shower. Cold is to the right.”

He laid a hand on her arm as she brushed past. “It was an excellent kiss.”

“I do most things well. Good night, Quentin.”

“Night, Paige.”

Minutes later, she lay in bed, not even close to sleep, while the water ran in the bathroom. Maybe he was taking a cold shower. Maybe the kiss had been all about hormones and the fact that Quentin currently wasn’t getting any.

They’d been friends their entire lives. Best friends. She didn’t want to screw that up with sex. Knowing Quentin’s track record in excruciating detail, a romantic relationship between them wouldn’t last since he obviously didn’t want anything long term. She wouldn’t let herself even think about the possibility. Instead, they would go back to what they’d always cherished. Friendship, pure and simple.

And maybe a little lonely.

Hopefully, you're intrigued by now. If you want the digital version instead of waiting for that trip to your local Barnes & Noble or Walmart, pre-order your copy on Amazon. We'll be deep into the first of our Christmas stories on release day (that's Nov. 27th folks!), and I hope you'll all join us for a month of terrific free reads. Visit my WEBSITE for future updates on my writing career, or follow me on Facebook. Happy reading!

A New Series by Jannine Gallant

Starting a new series is always fun. A whole new group of characters. A new setting. A new adventure in writing... The downside is wondering if people will like the concept. I'm currently waiting to hear if my publisher will contract my new three (possibly four) book romantic suspense series. If they don't, I'll have to decide what my next move will be. My COUNTERSTRIKE series is edgier than my other books. More danger and violence, but the romance is still strong. The first book is titled DEADLY ENCOUNTER. I'm posting the prologue below and I'd love to hear what you think. First, a little bit about the series.

Counterstrike is a small agency of hand-picked, dedicated, exceptionally skilled men and women whose mission is to rescue kidnap victims both domestically and abroad. The company is top secret, existing far below any official radar, although high-level government representatives use them on occasion in an unsanctioned capacity. The goal of the team is to fade in and out of any situation without detection, rescue innocents, and eliminate targets with no one the wiser. Danger is ever-present, and the operatives have nothing and no one to rely on but their expertise and each other.

Each book in the series will feature a different member of the Counterstrike team who is fighting to overcome a personal crisis. Some will leave the agency after a traumatic event, only to be thrust into a new pressure-cooker situation. The team is always a trusted resource when past or present members reach out for help. Missions, per se, will not be the central focus of the stories, but a launching point that takes each protagonist on an individual journey where they find love while triumphing over circumstances beyond their control.

DEADLY ENCOUNTER PROLOGUE

The mission had disintegrated into a shitstorm of epic proportions.

Jaimee Fleming gripped the rough trunk of the palm tree with her cleated boots while sighting down the barrel of her rifle through the infrared scope. Slowly she squeezed the trigger. With the silencer, only a muffled piffft sounded before she moved to the next target. A bullet whizzed past her cheek. Without flinching, she adjusted her aim to take out the source. Piffft.

There were more heavily-armed combatants in the compound than the team had anticipated. Hence, the current cluster. Either the intel had been wrong, or the kidnappers were tipped off. Either way, quietly rescuing the vice president’s godson from the encampment where he was being held had evolved into a herculean effort.

Not that anyone on the taskforce would turn tail and run. Counterstrike got the job done. Period.

Her nose twitched from the earthy scent of rotting vegetation, while sweat dampened her back as the extreme humidity made drawing each breath difficult. She ignored all the distractions and squeezed the trigger again. Piffft.

“You got us covered, Scarlet?” The calm voice came through her earpiece. Wolf was always cool under pressure.

“Working on it.”

“That’ll have to be good enough,” he responded. Gunfire erupted over the receiver. “We’re on our way out.”

“Copy that.”

Across the clearing, the exterior metal door of the building swung open, crashing against the corrugated wall. Patch appeared first, identifiable by his thinner build and fluid movements in the greenish light of her infrared scope. The team’s medic lobbed an explosive toward a collection of oil drums.

From her perch, Jaimee scanned the perimeter for marks as the device detonated in a fireball of flames and smoke. Piffft.

Following close behind Patch, Coffee took advantage of the distraction and ran full out in a zig-zag pattern, despite the deadweight of the man slung over his shoulder. Wolf exited the building last, covering their rear with a burst of shots as two more guerrilla soldiers raced out of the hanger.

They had a hundred yards of open ground to traverse before reaching the protection of the trees, then another quarter mile on a narrow path through dense vegetation to the pick-up point on the landing strip. Over a sudden blast of gunfire from the rooftop, Jaimee detected the faint drone of the chopper, even as her heartbeat slowed and her hands steadied. She picked off another target. Piffft.

Did I get them all?

A flash to her left caught her eye as a shot echoed. Below her, Coffee went down only a few yards from relative safety.

Noooooooo. The silent scream reverberated in her head as she sighted and pulled the trigger. Piffft. She didn’t need the thud of a body hitting the jungle floor below to confirm the kill. She never missed.

Barely slowing his stride, Wolf bent to heave the man they’d come to rescue over his shoulder before motioning to Patch. The medic ran back to lift Coffee into his arms while Jaimee shimmied down the palm to the ground. Seconds later, she reached the rest of her team.

“Go, Scarlet. I’ve got him.”

After a brief hesitation, her training kicked in, and she followed orders. With a nod, she sprinted after Wolf toward the chopper hovering above the landing strip. The Huey lowered to the stretch of packed earth hacked out of the jungle. Palm fronds whipped back and forth in the powerful draft but couldn’t begin to compete with the storm raging inside her.

Covering the final distance at a pace that would have thrilled her old track coach, Jaimee clambered aboard the craft and turned to help ease Coffee into the open interior. Patch had just hoisted himself up onto the metal floor beside her when the chopper lifted off.

She forced out words that nearly choked her. “Is he . . .”

The medic ripped open his patient’s jacket. “He’s in bad shape. Toss me that bag behind you. I need to get pressure on this wound.”

Jaimee handed him the first aid kit, knowing Patch would ask for additional help if he needed it. Needing to do something—anything but vainly sit there—she reached out to hold her unconscious colleague’s hand. Calloused fingers that could deftly stroke the strings of a guitar—and on one occasion the side of her breast—were limp within her grasp. In the dim glow from the interior lights, she locked gazes with Wolf. Their team leader’s rugged face beneath black paint looked like it was carved from stone. Neither spoke as Patch worked frantically to save the man they all loved.

Only Jaimee’s feelings went far deeper than brotherhood and camaraderie.

A minute later, the doc sat back on his heels and shook his head.

Jaimee suppressed a cry as she tightened her grip on Coffee’s hand. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the side of the vibrating beast carrying them high over the jungle. Her chest ached with a pain so intense breathing became a challenge. She wouldn’t let the tears fall, wouldn’t give in to the anguish tearing her apart. She wouldn’t show she was soft. Weak.

“You’d better see what you can do for Boylston, Patch. It looks like they roughed him up pretty badly.” Wolf’s voice was even gruffer than usual.

Patch bumped against her feet in the tight quarters as he shifted position to reach the man they’d rescued at the cost of losing one of their own.

A life saved, and a life gone. When she opened eyes burning with unshed tears, her gaze came to rest on Coffee’s still face. He’d never smile at her again or laugh at one of their inside jokes. He’d never show her with a single glance how special she was to him. A shudder racked her body as she struggled to keep her emotions under control. She’d allowed herself to care about him more than she should have, and now she’d pay the price.

Not the first time she’d lost someone she loved. But this time would be the last.

No more letting fear eat at her soul, worrying another mission might end in disaster. No more putting her heart on the line. The risk wasn’t worth the reward.

She was finished. With all of it.

So, there you have it! Keep your fingers crossed for me. And if you liked the excerpt, check out my current SIREN COVE series, available at all retail sites. Links are on my WEBSITE. Happy reading!

Where Book Ideas Come From by Jannine Gallant

Vonnie recently posted an entertaining story about a dream bear that sparked her Bear Shifter series. Alas, I've never had characters appear in my dreams to demand their tales be told. That got me to thinking about what does inspire my stories. First of all, my stories begin with a plot not a character. When I'm pondering a new series, my mind turns to that all important question: What if this happened? But how does an author get to this? For me, real life events can trigger that question. A couple of years ago, I was walking Ginger in the spring when the snow was starting to melt out of the woods. She took off as she likes to do and was digging furiously some distance off the trail. I yelled for her, and she finally came back with a long stick in her mouth. At least I thought it was a stick...until I noticed the hoof on the end of it! EWWWW doesn't begin to reflect my thoughts as I screamed at her to drop it. Some poor deer had been eaten by something (probably a mountain lion), and the remains had been buried by snow all winter. Of course my writer mind clicked into motion, and I couldn't help thinking: What if it was a human femur instead of a deer? Out of that notion, a scene from BURIED TRUTH was born along with the gruesome reason a person had been buried in the woods.

But that was only part of the plot--a crime that had happened in the past. Why would there be danger in the present for my hero and heroine to contend with unless the perpetrators of the old crime felt threatened? How could something that happened years before pose an immediate threat? Those were the questions I asked myself as I mulled possibilities. Something incriminating had to be found, something the guilty party wanted back. My mind did a few mental gymnastics, and I came up with the idea of a time capsule. What better hiding place for a roll of film with incriminating photos than in a time capsule that would be safely buried for the next hundred years? Except my heroine and her classmates decide to unearth their fifth grade time capsule after only twenty years and have a reunion party to reminisce over the contents. The plot to BURIED TRUTH was born.

I believe all authors have their own unique process for coming up with book ideas. Our minds work differently, after all. My characters evolve from my plots as I decide "who" would best fit into the suspense scenario. The "who" determines the romance plot to go with the suspense, and putting together the two in a meaningful way is how I form my books. So now you have it, a look into the scary place that is my mind! LOL

If you want to see what happens after that time capsule is dug up, pick up a paperback copy of BURIED TRUTH at your local Barnes & Noble or download the digital version at Amazon or Apple iBooks. For an exclusive prologue that shows the origins of the twenty year old crime, pick up a copy at KOBO. All links are also on my WEBSITE. Happy reading!

Encouraging Creative Inspiration 101 by Jannine Gallant

Today I want to talk about one of the most asked questions we hear as writers: How do you come up with your story ideas? I'll admit it's a topic that has been on my mind a lot recently. I'm currently writing the LAST chapter in the third and final book of my Siren Cove series. (Me, throwing confetti and popping open the champagne!) All three books will be released in 2018. My publisher usually gives me a deadline 8 months out from a set release date, and they publish 2 or 3 of my books each year. You do the math. It was making my head spin just thinking about that all important question... What comes next? I'm pretty sure I'm going to get an email from my editor in the very near future asking just that. I'd better have an answer.

Lots of thoughts have been running through my head. Okay, not running in an orderly fashion like seasoned athletes in a race. More like that proverbial chicken with her head chopped off...willy-nilly with no destination in sight. I can't plan just one book. I have to plan an entire series. My editor will ask for an overall series idea with blurbs for three books and the first three chapters of the first one. That's what they need to offer a contract. I've been freaking out with that knowledge in the back of my mind while I write feverishly to complete HIDDEN SECRETS.

So, how do writers come up with their ideas, not just for a book, but for an entire series? First, we need a strong common link to bind the books together. Step one. Right? What are the bonds that tie people together? Family. Friendship. Location. Job. I have two series tied together by family, my Who's Watching Now series and my Born To Be Wilde series. Been there. Done that. Okay, friendship and location. Again, my Secrets of Ravenswood novellas and my current Siren Cove series both have a common bond of friends from the same town. Honestly, writing three books in the same location can be restricting...at least for me. I like to give my characters the freedom to move around and visit interesting places so my writing doesn't get stale. And I need to do something different to keep readers from getting bored. As for using a job as the common bond, generally you brush up against that "same location" problem. So, I tried thinking outside the box. I had this vague idea to tie history into my new series, a current day suspense linked to a mystery from the past. I love history, so why not? I spent weeks trying to work out three plots that I could somehow tie together, and I was getting nowhere fast.

Lesson #1 in Encouraging Creative Inspiration 101: You can't force ideas. Something might sound wonderful, the perfect starting point for a book. But if you can't come up with a decent plot (or three) to support your idea, you might want to scrap it. I had this horrific vision of me, floundering to write three books that didn't have, strong and concise goals, motivation, and conflict. This idea of mine might work well for a single book, but tying three together in a meaningful way just wasn't happening. Not to mention the only plot idea I did have was so convoluted, even I couldn't figure out a way to make it work. If there's one thing I know about writing romantic suspense, it's that your plot has to have clear direction to tie together all those loose threads and give readers a satisfying experience. Back to the drawing board...

Lesson #2 in ECI 101: Get out of your work zone. Staring at my computer while I grapple for ideas doesn't help. That blinking cursor on a blank screen is NOT my friend. Same with the blank page in my notebook when I switched strategies to avoid my computer. So, I did what I do when I'm feeling stressed. I put on my shoes and took my dog for a walk in the woods. Ginger actually became my muse... I started to believe my working strategy (Remember, step one was to find a strong common bond for the series?) was faulty. Maybe what I needed to do was come up with a strong plot idea for a single book and go from there. As I walked my dog through the forest and felt my tension ease, the image of a woman formed in my mind. A woman with a lot of baggage from her past who was starting over, who was taking a break from a high-stress career to be a DOG WALKER. I pictured her knocking on the door of a house, opening it, and calling out as her doggy client ran up to her, whining. She steps inside, but her training warns her to be quiet (what training?). A body is laying on the living room floor. Quite dead. I did a happy dance in the woods. I finally had an idea!

Lesson #3 in ECI 101: Find yourself a sounding board. As I walked home, I went back to that earlier thought...what training? Could it be my heroine was highly trained because she was in the military or the CIA or...or...or The connection between the stories could be the other members of her old team. She turns to them for help when the going gets dicey. The chickens in my head were running wild again, so I sat down in front of my computer and pulled up (not a blank word doc) my email. I emailed my trusty CP to see what she thought of my brilliance so far. She bounced some ideas back. I countered. Every time I emailed her, I went a little more in-depth in my plot as the ideas unfolded for a private team, a tragedy that made this woman step away from her career, and ideas for plots for the next two books. Margo kept nudging me with What about this? scenarios. I didn't necessarily want to take all her suggestions, but they did make me think. They got those creative juices flowing faster. I copied and pasted those emails into a blank word doc and labeled it New Series Ideas. Ha, the page wasn't blank anymore!

So, to recap if you're still reading this extremely long post. My advice for Encouraging Creative Inspiration 101 is: #1 Don't force ideas. If you have to force them, they probably aren't that great. #2 Change your environment. Getting out of your house really does help switch gears when you're trying to think creatively. #3 Discuss your ideas with a friend with writing skills. First off, the person will probably have a thought or two you can use, but more importantly, you'll develop more ideas if you have to defend your original premise. I promise, these simple strategies work!

Your turn to share with us... Do you have a winning strategy for creative inspiration?

If you want to check out all my currently available books, go to my WEBSITE.