When My Boring Ebook Cover Begged for a Do-Over

The newly redesigned cover of the soon-to-be published book

I've never found myself so challenged by a book before. Even though I have a couple of sequels half-done, I started a new series. The original working title? The Four Acorns Inn Mysteries. I can just hear what the leading lady, Scarlet Wilson, might say upon seeing the preview. "Ooooh, scintillating! Just the thing to take to the dentist for my root canal appointment!"

I should have figured it was trouble from the moment I first started it. The concept  for The Case of the Imposing Imposter (the original working title) was good -- full of potential scenarios. A middle aged teacher-turned-innkeeper, caring for a handicapped mother, with a bad case of sibling rivalry and a sharp tongue. Scarlet Wilson's life hasn't gone according to her plan. When family duties come before personal growth, and you lose your retirement fund because of a scheming financial adviser, life isn't exactly hunky-dory. She often finds herself settling for what's convenient, and over the years, she's gotten into the routine of letting life drive the bus. When a series of events shake, rattle, and roll through the Four Acorns Inn, the still vibrant, still smart Scarlet finds herself facing a tough challenge -- she has to face the fact that she's played it safe a little too long -- that complacent attitude is what puts her in the greatest danger.

Coming on the heels of the latest Gabby Grimm ebook, Little Red Riding Hood and the Secret Cookie Recipe, I spent far too much time worrying about how I would top that crazy adventure and not enough time on my people skills for the new story. Every time I wrote a chapter, I got bogged down. More than once, to my horror, I actually found myself starting to doze off as I typed. How could I make this book as interesting as Gabby's newest tale? How could I draw in readers and ask them to stick with a story that put me to sleep?

I wrestled with this dilemma (or was it a demon?) even as I pushed myself to work and rework the story. And then I dropped a bombshell on Scarlet and it all clicked into place. You see, she found out that her brother had been boffing a guest at the inn -- even worse, the pair had been going at it for some time before that same guest found herself in dire straits. Can you imagine Scarlet's horror? Bur Wilson happens to be a co-owner of the inn. As if that weren't bad enough, it turns out her older brother has been wreaking havoc with her love life. What's a sister to do with a brother who's already been divorced twice and can't seem to reign in that impulsive and snarky behavior? The dead body in the woods problem enough, but what happens if the cops start to suspect Bur of murder because he keeps tripping over his own alibi?

The more I changed what I wrote, the more I found new, unexpected characters popping up all over the place. Rather than the old high school flame being predictable and safe, I let him grow into the man he had become through age and experience. How will Scarlet handle the fact that Kenny Tolliver, the boy she fell in lust with all those years ago, is a real flesh-and-blood male? She's spent all those years since high school mourning the guy that got away. The widowed father, still in mourning, spent the last two decades working his way up to assistant director of public safety for Princeton University before retiring and going into private security. Is Scarlet going to think he's qualified to handle a missing person's case, or is she going to see him as a rent-a-cop kind of guy, a lightweight who's biggest problem was those pesky students flooding the quad fountain with bubbles?

As I found my way out of the quicksand and back onto my feet as the author and creator of Scarlet Wilson, I realized it was time to rename both the series and this particular episode. In the end, despite all my efforts, the character made the decision for me. Her nickname lent itself to the new title -- Miz Scarlet and the Imposing Imposter. You see, Scarlet might not have ever married, but don't ever think she believes herself to be a lesser woman because of it. She's actually quite proud of her own achievements in life and the good head she has on her shoulders. And as for the series, how could it be demeaned by a cute little snippet when Scarlet is clearly a very dignified heroine? In the end, it was her name on the credits, so to speak. This is a Scarlet Wilson Mystery because she now takes herself very seriously and expects you to do the same, even as you are laughing at the antics.

The new cover features a key hole. How appropriate, considering all the action that takes place behind closed doors. But rather than being the typical snoopy innkeeper, Scarlet turns out to be the one spied upon as she goes about her business. What did she do to earn someone's wrath? Let's hope she figures out in time that she's a target, or the consequences might turn out to be deadly!

Will she appealed to readers as much as my other two heroines do? Deputy Gabby Grimm is so down-to-earth -- goodhearted and fun-loving, even as she's prepared to do what she has to do to keep the people of Latimer Falls, Vermont safe. Bea Jones, the CIA-connected innkeeper of The Bard's Bed & Breakfast, is certainly far more prickly and defiant, although you know you can count on her to be decent and righteous. Scarlet is a good woman to add to the roster of my heroines. She's funny, sassy, and a little too cerebral for all the sibling rivalry she wrestles with, but I'm looking forward to watching her grow with time. Most of all, I want to see what develops with Kenny Tolliver, now that he's retired and rethinking his own life. Could it be a match made in heaven, or something wonderful here on Earth?

Why Write Cancer Fiction?

The question of the day is this -- why write cancer fiction?

The answer is simple. Raise your hand if you don't no anyone who has cancer, has survived cancer, or has died from cancer. Oops. I'm not seeing very many hands out there.

These days, cancer is far more survivable than it once was. Everywhere you go, you are rubbing elbows with people who have experienced the disease in some way, whether as patient, relative, friend, neighbor, or just a bystander who saw the devastation.

And yet, rarely do we see fictional characters with cancer, unless they're tragically sprawled on their death beds. The truth is people are thriving more than they are dying with the disease, so why doesn't our fiction reflect this fact?

Before you authors go off and start writing your newest novel featuring the brave heroine who battles the disease or the knight in shining armor who conquers the Mighty C, stop. You should never write about how a disease affects a person until you have the facts and the insight. Otherwise, C-faring folks are going to think you're exploiting them, and rightly so.

I say that as someone who got trounced for "Murder at the Mountain Vale Inn", a short little tale I wrote. It was, in fact, my first ebook. It wasn't cancer patients who didn't get it. It was the general public. Did I write too-specific a cancer story? Perhaps. Or perhaps the readers didn't appreciate the ironic twist at the climax. Me, personally? I thought it was a hoot, but then I know cancer survivors and getting back to normal life is a big part of the healing process. It's all about empowerment after devastating loss.

Mary, one of the main characters in that story, was an actor who got breast cancer. Her struggle during treatment was brutal, and her best friend was there throughout. Both women are married to very supportive men, which helps, but sometimes it takes a woman to understand what another woman goes through. When she's finally back on her feet, Mary decides it's time to give back to her dedicated caregiver. What better way to repay all that kindness than to take a weekend trip to a luxurious inn? This lovely splurge turns into a nightmare when they intercept a plot to murder the unsuspecting spouse of a philandering guest and accomplice.

What most people missed about the story was that cancer patients often are frustrated by the damage the disease brings into their lives. It's not just the physical trauma -- few cancers are as devastating as breast cancer. It's about what it does to your spirit, your self-image, your trust in life and love. Consider the divorce rate for breast cancer patients. Think all marriages and relationships can handle any storm? Not so much. If you're single, is your boyfriend going to stick around? It's a rare bird that won't fly off in the face of such a diagnosis. Talk about a low blow to your self-esteem! All the more reason to tell a tale about some of the confusion and sorrow of surviving cancer, setting it inside a mystery.

Without spoiling the surprise ending, I'll tell you that I tried to respect Mary's experience with the disease and how it turned her life upside down. I also tried to be true to her desire to regain control over her own life and to depict how she did it through her stagecraft. Actors are a funny bunch of folks and once you're bitten by the bug and you go professional, it's really hard to let that go. Mary understood some of what her best friend went through to help her through treatment and she felt guilty for the sacrifices made. If you take away a cancer patient's need to balance out a relationship that goes from equal to skewed, you're really doing damage to the whole person. No one enjoys being dependent -- remember that and empower cancer patients. You may have to be the wind beneath their wings, but make sure you help them to fly. And if a cancer patient wants to do something nice for you in return, let him or her. You're recognizing the human need to feel like an equal. Cancer patients too often get that "poor thing" end of a very short stick. Sometimes giving a cancer patient the chance to be just like anyone else is very powerful medicine.

I was more successful with another tale, "Charleston with a Clever Cougar", and I think part of the reason was that I didn't make Carole's cancer the main focus of the plot line. Cancer seems to make a lot of people uncomfortable, so characters often are too quickly cured or they die off. In real life, a lot of folks live with the disease according to the type of cancer, the type of treatment, and the many factors that affect prognosis. In other words, writing a novel about a character with cancer should reflect that reality.

In Carole's case, she's managed to get through her treatment, but that bastard of a husband hooked up with someone else while she was struggling. Cady, a childless, single businesswoman who owns a bakery, takes Carole's teenage daughter, Daisy, under her wing. Enter Doc, an experienced medic back from yet another tour of combat duty. Now you have three people with a first-hand look at PTSD.

Did I forget to mention this is a story of survivors? Sure, Carole made it through her cancer, and Doc made it back from the war, but Cady has her own hidden demons and devils. All that chaos triggers the return of some very ugly nightmares, and Doc's there to see her through it. When a couple of thugs go after Carole's daughter, Cady has to put her own fears aside and focus. Why would anyone want to hurt a good kid like Daisy? The answer is ugly. Political intrigue, ambition, greed -- it's all there.

Maybe that's why this particular story had better reviews from the moment it was published. There's a lot to like about Doc, the gruff medic, who knows all too well that dealing with PTSD is important. Even as he's fighting his way back into life without war, he can recognize the symptoms in Carole and Cady. These two women don't realize it, but they're a part of Doc's plan to reintegrate into American society. He needs them every bit as much as they need him.

But for Cady, who so carefully provided care to her friend, the realization that her whole life has been affected by a single moment in time, comes as a shock. Never married, never having children -- she thought those were conscious decisions she made because she was an independent woman. Imagine her dismay when she realizes just how damaged she was by what happened to her. Sometimes we bury the wounds deep and think we've forgotten them. And sometimes we assume that men and women back from the war are the only ones who have PTSD.

(To read this story for free, use coupon code ZQ55W and download it in your digital format at Smashwords: Charleston with a Clever Cougar )

My goal in writing the novella was first and foremost to tell a good tale. I like adventure. I like complications that force people out of their everyday, all-too-complacent lives and into making life-changing decisions. I certainly managed to do that with "Charleston with a Clever Cougar". Cancer wasn't the real issue in the 99-cent ebook, any more than Doc's war experiences were the heart of the tale. This was about three adults and a teenager trying to understand a murderous plot. Why did someone want Daisy dead? Even as readers navigate the story, they come to see that Daisy is just a normal teenager who is scared out of her mind about her mother's future, what will happen to her little brother, and how she will maintain her relationship with the father who abandoned them for another woman.

In some ways, even though cancer was a huge part of the story and Carole is a very sympathetic and likable character, she's more than just a survivor of the disease. She's dealt with the fact that when the chips were down, Doug deserted her and the kids. It could have been any other calamity that forced him to flee, but in this case, it's cancer.

Facing up to the fact that the man you love is weak-willed and shallow is never easy for any woman. For a survivor like Carole, it comes as an eye-opener. Sometimes we take on too much responsibility for what happens to our relationships and we fail to see that not all men and women are created equally. Life is a constant learning curve, and how we adapt to our circumstances is all about how we build our own character in real life. I crafting these fictional people, I strove to make them as real as I could, and in doing so, I wanted cancer to not have the upper hand.

Will Carole survive the disease? Just as in real life, the author in me can't look into the crystal ball and tell you that. Readers can assume that Cady and Doc will be there for her, come what may, because the bond was forged when that evil, despicable decision was made to try to kill poor Daisy. In real life, there are always plots and perils. What matters is creating characters that readers can relate to and appreciate, even as they take that wild, unexpected ride.

So, my advice to anyone writing a novel is to never shy away from the reality of how cancer affects characters. Be honest. Be blunt. Be real. But don't make the story about how cancer took over life -- don't let cancer be in charge of the plot. Put cancer in its place. It happened and the characters are dealing with it. Let characters thrive and survive, even if they have to struggle with side effects like physical scars, "chemo brain", fatigue, or any of the other collateral damage that comes along for the ride. Tell a good tale and entertain readers without the pity party. Cancer survivors deserve to be recognized, not as brave sufferers who carry on with their heads held high and a stiff upper lip, not as perfect martyrs who utter trite things like "Gosh darn it anyway!" when things go south, but as human beings, doing the best they can with the crappy hand they were dealt in the card game we call life.

Sara Barton, AKA the Practical Caregiver, has a cancer caregiver blog to help families cope with a loved one's cancer: The Practical Caregiver -- Cancer

She also provides educational resources for family caregivers through The Practial Caregiver Guides.

Her downloadable ebook guides on family care are available through Amazon, Apple, Barnes & Noble, Diesel, Kobo Books, Smashwords, and Sony.

Why Fictional Heroes Improve the Quality of Our Lives

Think about the fictional heroes you have known throughout your life. If you're an avid reader, if you're consumed with the written word, you've rubbed elbows with many. They've been with you through the ups and downs of your life, haven't they? They've comforted you when you lost that job. They've encouraged you in the wee, small hours of the night, when you couldn't sleep because you were worried. They've inspired you to try a little harder to be more like them.

When you think of Atticus Finch, what springs first into your mind? A man of courage and conviction?  What about his two kids? Did you envy them for having such a wise father growing up, even as you pitied them for being motherless? Emma, Jane Austen's well-meaning, yet bungling character, stepping on her own tongue -- how many have taken comfort in the fact that we can make mistakes and still turn out okay? Hard-boiled detective Philip Marlowe isn't exactly your typical warm and fuzzy icon, is he? He's tough, gruff, less than patient with idiots, and he's got his own demons, but that doesn't stop him from figuring out the mystery. Jane Eyre perseveres, even as she is holed up in that Gothic nightmare. Even as we admire her, would we ever want to trade places with her? And what of Charles Darnay and Sidney Carton, the two men in Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities? "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness...." What kind of man sacrifices himself for another that way? What does it take to do that?

We all have fictional heroes who helped to shape our thinking, our morals, even our choices in life. Sometimes we underestimate the impact that these literary imaginings can have on our everyday choices, but that doesn't stop them from pushing us forward as human beings. We are only as good as the company of characters we keep.

Consider what reading does for our minds and why. When we read non-fiction, we're often looking for information -- concrete, relevant information of which we have a need. Maybe we're trying to learn a new skill. Maybe we're tackling a new subject. We have a goal, a purpose in opening that particular tome. We have a clue where we're going with it and why it's necessary. But fiction?

Fiction is meant to be an adventure, even if it's the gentlest of tales, filled with beautiful prose and vivid images. We are exploring life through characters that never existed in the flesh. And when we read those last few words, we want to feel satiated. We want to believe that the time we invested in an author's novel rewarded us as readers. What did we learn on this concocted journey? Where did we go that we wouldn't have gone without that "ticket to ride", punched by the author?

Books are so integral in our lives for what they can and can't do, there is no substitute. Watch all the films and television you want, and you still won't have the same experience you have as a reader. Why?

Part of it is about the written or spoken word. Whether you're flipping through a hardcover or paperback book, doing the digital equivalent, or even listening to an audio book, you're using certain mental processing skills that you, and you alone, control. You're taking your own experiences in life, unique to you, and you're using the wisdom you gained to now process what fictional characters experience. The richer your life, in terms of challenges, accomplishments, and even lessons learned, the more you will expect from the novels you read, be they mysteries, love stories, or even war stories. The better we know ourselves, the greater our demands on our fictional heroes.

But the best fictional heroes are just ordinary people doing ordinary things. They have no super powers. None of them are vampires or fairies or mystical beasts with extra limbs or home planets other than Earth. There's a world of difference in our ability to relate to Spiderman and Zorro, for example. We get that Spiderman can climb a skyscraper with his sticky hands and live to tell the tale. In terms of super powers, that would come in handy. But at the same time we know it's not real life. Zorro, with his swashbuckling ways and his dual personality, is a writer's dream character. At once pompous and yet of the people, Zorro concerns himself with a principle bigger than his role as a man, as a human being. He's willing to take many risks to engage in the greater good. We come to understand his duplicitousness as he parades his smug persona around as Don Diego de la Vega is a mask for his true self, so we find amusement in his efforts to hide in plain sight. We pay attention to his techniques to protect his secret, in case we ever find ourselves in similar straits.

One of my all-time favorite characters is the mail order bride from Maine in Patricia MacLachlan's Sarah, Plain and Tall, a children's book. As a heroine, Sarah's top shelf. She had the guts to pack up and hit the road, all because of a widower and two kids she never met. How lonely she must have been as she made her way across the country. How frightening it must have been for her to think that she could make a new life with these strangers. This is the epitome of a fictional hero, a woman willing to take life-changing chances, who uses her wits to survive and thrive. Sarah makes it work by being herself, by recognizing the tender feelings not only of Caleb and Anna, but also of their father, Jacob. She knows the man loved his wife, every bit as much as she knows she's nothing like the dearly departed. Sarah's got spunk, and that's what enables her to go on, even when things aren't copacetic. That spirit, that magnificent courage is what finally makes those four people a new family. Ordinary people with an extraordinary outcome.

Books that have memorable characters bring new meaning into our daily lives, both as readers and as writers. When I am writing a novel, I am first and foremost interested in what I will learn from my characters. As selfish as that sounds, I genuinely want to understand the people I create, because I want to tap into their wisdom and learn from their mistakes. The more I learn from them, the more I understand about life.

When I share their stories, with my audience, I have several goals I want to accomplish:

1. I want to entertain readers with a challenging storyline.

Books should offer readers a new perspective on a subject, new insight into the human heart or mind, or a new way of being. If you finish a book and nothing's changed about your thinking, your emotions, your perspective on life, either the author failed to reach you in a way that connected to who you are as a person or you're too set in your ways to consider things from other viewpoints. If you already know all there is to know about life, about humanity, why would you bother to read a novel? Novels are for the curious, the adventurous, the passionate.

2. I want to encourage readers to take chances that will enrich their lives.

At the end of a novel, readers should be satisfied, and yet feel the stirrings of appetite rising up once more. If you get done reading a book and just walk away,  without any interest in finding out more -- about the characters, about sequels, about other books by the same author, you haven't had your mojo tapped. Mere curiosity is a sign that your passions have been stirred, and once stirred, they may be shaken, as Ian Fleming's hero, James Bond, might advise. When you go around in a glass a few times with a spoon, you mix and mingle with ideas, thoughts, and emotions. But when you go every which way in a shaker, you have no choice but to collide with all the ingredients, to be incorporated into the passions of the characters, influenced by their strengths and weaknesses, and you should feel some kind of release and relief when the wild ride ends and you emerge from the last page, refreshed and energized. Finishing a satisfying book is like when you climb off a roller coaster and your stomach settles. Is your first thought, "Let's do this again!" or do you want to get as far away as fast as you can?

3. I want to inspire readers to believe in something bigger than themselves by believing in ordinary people.

We've all met people in real life who think their fannies are cake and everyone wants a piece of them. Smug, self-assured, cocky, and usually very self-absorbed -- these are the folks who go through life never doubting themselves, never seeing the destruction in their wake. We've also all known people who were too shy to speak up, to terrified to check under the bed or in that closet. Timid, doubting, fearful, and usually too good-hearted or weak for their own good, these are the folks who go through life all too aware of their own failings, feeling like misfits in a strange land, disconnected from the rest of the world. The majority of us, however, fall somewhere in the middle. We goof up in between bouts of getting it right. Sometimes we win, occasionally we lose. We try, even though we know we should try harder and more often. Looking around at the people we know, we sometimes think they have skills we don't. Good fictional heroes show us they're no better or worse than we are; just more determined to live life out loud. When we immerse ourselves in a story, we find confidence in characters we relate to and we root for them. It's a chance to live vicariously, but unlike reality TV, we expect the story to actually go somewhere meaningful, so that we, too, might rise as the fictional heroes conquer their demons, real or imagined.

At the end of the day, there's really only one true test of success for those of us who write novels. Did the readers buy it? There is nothing an author likes to hear more than readers who ask for the next sequel -- especially when it's in the works. If people enjoy the characters, it means they are connecting with those personality traits the characters display and with the adventures the characters have.

As an author who believes that heroes matter, I approach my stories the way I approach my cooking. After decades of busting my heinie with tedious efforts to prepare this tidbit or that, I learned the hard way that when you invite folks to dinner, most people want food that looks good, tastes good, feels good in the mouth, digests easily, and not only nourishes the body, but also the heart and soul. Comfort food makes even the pickiest eater happy. But a successful dinner party is more than just what you eat. It's the interchange with other guests that makes for a memorable occasion. Long after the last morsels are scooped off the tablecloth and the pots and pans are put away, it lingers. It's something said that struck a chord in you. It's something you didn't know about your seatmate. It's noticing for the first time that the man opposite you has amazing brown eyes, or the woman you thought was rather stuffy is actually just reserved until she's tossed back a couple of Chardonnays.

The truest test of a successful story for a reader is the way you feel the fictional heroes you meet in novels. Did you feel like you belonged in the story -- that you could be a neighbor, a friend, even a lover to one of the main characters? Did you feel like you were transported out of your ordinary existence, even for just a little bit of time? Were you a visitor who found new insight that you brought back home with you in your mental suitcase?

There's a difference between escaping and escaping into a good book. When you run away from home physically, you leave your problems behind, abandoning family and friends as you search for something more satisfying. When you run to a good book and open that door into the unknown, to escape your troubles, you're looking to find an adventure you can carry back with you.

Every good story should create a mental postcard in your mind of the adventures you had with characters who mattered to you. When you look back on the good books you've read, you should smile and remember them with great affection and fondness. Good books strengthen us. They nurture the soul and feed the heart. They open the real world to us and encourage us to venture out, to employ our new-found courage to spread our wings and fly. We've learned from our fictional heroes because they've shared their wisdom about life and love, and now it's our turn to live life out loud.

Why Characters Need Their Own Achilles' Heels

What fun is there in having a character who is so perfect, he or she never makes a mistake? You might as well stick a robot in the role, for all the emotions that aren't generated by a character who never fails. Half the fun of an adventure book, a real thriller, is knowing that the hero has his or her back against the wall and has no clue what to do next. That's really when the brain starts scrambling to find solutions. Good writers are also lovers of good tales --- that's how we know real readers don't want to sit on the sidelines. We all want to participate in the story, to be pushed to wonder what might work. Don't we love to be hit with the unexpected, the unpredictable? We're out for the excitement of the wild ride.

When I sit down and write a book, I know my characters as people. I know their weaknesses and strengths, at least on the surface. But I'm never really sure which way they will go until they're backed into that tight corner and have to make choices about what to do, how to do it, and why to do it.

Recently, I was in this position with my latest Gabby Grimm Fairy Tale Mystery, and it wasn't really a comfortable place to be. I happen to think morality and ethics are important in everyday life, so I care that my heroes make decent decisions even in the face of chaos. But in Little Red Riding Hood and the Secret Cookie Recipe, Deputy Gabby Grimm was in over her head. I deliberately yanked her out of her comfort zone and tossed her, along with her victim, to the wolves (pun intended.)

As a law enforcement officer in the small village of Latimer Falls, Vermont, Gabby doesn't have a lot of serious crime with which to contend, so she's all about community policing. She works hard to know the folks she protects. She's trained for this and is very good at it, utilizing her background in psychology. But when organized crime tries to muscle its way into the area, the bad guys are really, really bad. They don't play by any rules. They're vicious bastards who do unconscionable things to innocent people. That's a game-changer right there. When Gabby is thrust into a big, fat mess, she makes a really bad choice, but she makes it for the right reasons.

Would I have made that decision? I'd like to think not. I'd like to think I'd try harder and go deeper for a more reasonable solution. But I say that from the safety of my armchair, where I'm sitting pretty. Gabby was in a life-altering situation at that moment in time and the opportunity presented itself. When you're desperate, you sometimes do desperate things. It's what makes us human. We make mistakes. Yes, I could have given her the chance to go a different route, but writing a novel is all about forcing a story out into the open. Sometimes it's not easy to get away from really bad guys and our hands get dirty in the process of cleaning up after them. Somebody's got to take out the trash. Gabby knows, even as she acts, that she's crossed a line, but she's out of ideas and she knows the life of an innocent teenage girl is at stake. Does she follow the rules or does she save the girl? Do the ends justify the means when it comes to saving lives? The law can read black-and-white, but sometimes the reality is muddied by a variety of factors and villains. Should we protect the rights of bad guys and let the victims die to uphold the law, or should we do what's necessary to protect human targets, even if we stumble on the finer points of justice?

For Gabby Grimm, having a Special Forces soldier as a romantic partner is a new experience. She's already outgrown her local dance partners. As a female deputy, she's used to that male mindset, and she actually holds her own as the only woman in the Latimer Falls Sheriff's Department. Sam Hogan takes more risks than any other man Gabby's ever known, which makes him rather fascinating to her. His covert skills definitely come in handy when organized crime invades Latimer Falls, but do they comply with law enforcement rules? Good heavens, no! Sam's used to dealing with terrorists and warriors. What works with them isn't necessarily what is needed for a small village in Vermont. Gabby is constantly assessing and reassessing her skill set, to meet the needs of the current crisis, but sometimes there is a lag in processing and it's important to go with what you've got.

Romance books often vary in the types of characters and the way in which the pursuits of the ever-elusive love evolve. Whether you hail the conquering hero who triumphs over the vixen or you root for the bronco-busting heroine who tames that wild stallion, whether you tear up at the words scrawled in a secret message left in the crook of the old oak tree or you find yourself maddened by the missed opportunities of star-crossed lovers, you are looking for one thing from your characters -- passion. Some love stories are cerebral, some adventurous, but they all involve desire. Whether it's that touch of a hand that awakens the hidden longing deep within the heroine or it's the sight of a pair of heaving bosoms and a thrusting sword commingling between soft Egyptian cotton sheets as the story comes to its crescendo, the definition of romance is always in the eye of the beholder.

When I concocted Bea Jones, the heroine of The Bard's Bed & Breakfast Mysteries, I saw her as a bit of a rebel. After all, her whole life was turned upside down because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time and rubbed elbows with a terrorist in Paris. From that moment on, her choices were not her own, and over the years, she built up some serious resentment for her circumstances in life. As the wife of a CIA officer forced into early retirement, she takes some satisfaction in his misery, because now he has a first-hand look at what it's like to be the pawn instead of the player. Her CIA handlers renamed her Beatrice after the Shakespearean character in "Much Ado About Nothing" and set her up in a Washington, DC bookstore, a job she loved. Unfortunately, an Iranian spy managed to ruin that for Bea, and now she's an innkeeper for a clientele that's CIA-connected. It's just another thorn in her side that she didn't get to choose who to be or what to do. And her conveniently arranged marriage to Benedick? She wants him to know that no matter how cocky he gets, he's never going to totally control her. If anything, Bea makes Ben work for every little concession on her part as they stumble through married life together.

The funny thing is these two people actually do love and respect one another, but like Shakespeare's pair of lovers, they never stop their bickering long enough to admit to such a weakness. On Ben's part, it comes from a lifetime of being a Cold War pawn. His own family history is so wrapped up in the battles of the past, he has no choice but to be constantly vigilant. He knows that at any moment in time, that bullet can come out of nowhere. For him, it's not an unusual thing to find a dead body under the bed, as was the case in Let Slip the Dogs of War. He just arranges for a clean-up the way a "normal person" might sweep up those Cheerios that spilled on the kitchen floor. In some ways, he's a little too cavalier about his own lot in life. He's so used to taking out the human trash, he sometimes forgets he's supposed to tie that garbage bag up in the kitchen and haul it out to the garage.

Bea's quarrelsome personality can be irritating and annoying, not only to her husband, but to others. And yet, it's her means of surviving in a world where she's been controlled by circumstances. She's not willing to lie down and roll over. She's going kicking and screaming all the way. When she finds herself in the forest with a ruthless spy team, that drive to survive is what saves her. She's forced to wonder what her CIA-trained husband would do to stay one step ahead of the bad guys if he were in her shoes.

Ironically, that situation actually helps Bea understand Ben better, because she gets a first-hand look at his world and just how dangerous it really is. It's no place for sissies or the faint of heart. These are real predators and they mean business. When push comes to shove, Bea actually begs the worst offender to spare an innocent child because she can't bear the thought of putting this tiny victim into harm's way yet again, not after what the little Syrian war refugee has been through. But she's learned from Ben and she uses what she knows of the spy's own personal history to maneuver him into doing what she wants him to do.

But did Bea make a good decision? Novel writing isn't the art of creating perfect characters. From a CIA standpoint, Bea made a terrible decision. She actually surrendered the child she was supposed to protect to the man who could most profit from it. Her intentions were good. Her heart was in it. But that idea that seemed so right actually created more problems than it solved. You see, spies are in the business of manipulating. They operate on the MICE scale, trying to play their targets by leveraging money, ideology, coercion, or ego to get the job done. Can you buy what you want by tossing dollars at the dilemma? Can you work it with the heart, tapping into that adherence to a cause or belief? Can you squeeze your victim until you get compliance, burning those feet until the target screams "Uncle!" and gives up control to you? Can you stroke that enormous sense of self-importance in your target until you convince your drama king or queen that the world is his or her oyster?

What Bea doesn't see coming is what will come back to haunt her one of these days. She wants to believe that in every person there is goodness and it's just a matter of tapping into it. Bea thinks she has changed the brutal spy and humanized him by bringing out the good in him. Ben scoffs at the notion that his evil adversary has been transformed by her efforts to do right by an innocent child, but then he has seen the dark side of life. He knows sometimes we are helpless when time moves faster and more powerfully than the human heart, mind, and body can act. Is there anything lonelier than looking back on those times you were powerless, useless? Bea has a lot to learn about her husband's world, and it looks like learn she will, willing or not.

In the sequel, A Plague O' Both Your Houses, Bea finds her morality wavering when the hateful Linda Romano gleefully puts that same little war refugee once again in harm's way. Most people never know that beast called murderous rage. When Bea suddenly finds herself experiencing it, she struggles to overcome that ugly urge. What stops her? Someone else needs Bea to be better than that. A distraught friend seeks the goodness in this CIA wife and she answers the call by sacrificing the devil on her shoulder.

What Bea Jones and Gabby Grimm have in common is their desire to do right in the face of terrible evil. Even as they realize they are outwitted and outmatched by those with more training and experience, they are still willing to risk their own lives to protect the innocent. They believe in goodness enough to reach out to some very bad people, in order to tap into that smidgen of human decency that might be hiding behind the scary facades. It's a desperate thing to do, but sometimes it's the only thing to do. These two women are operating on female instinct, but they are influenced by the men they know, men who have clearly been too close to the edge of mankind's misery and seen what no human heart should ever gaze upon.

What really seems to define these two female characters is their choices of cars. These women aren't flashy or overly aware of their own beauty, although they do know the power they hold over the men they love. Gabby and Bea are both very practical people and they look to their motor vehicles to serve them well. In many ways, the cars offer insight into their different personalities.

At one point during a chase in Let Slip the Dogs of War, Ben is driving Bea's trusty little Outback station wagon and manages to scratch it up as the Subaru bounces along the dirt road. Her reaction to his carelessness is understandable, but Ben tries to smooth it over by announcing that he's sure that the damage can be "buffed out". No harm, no foul. He's so used to real life-and-death damage, this little scratch is nothing. He sees her sturdy station wagon as survivor, just as Bea is a survivor. It's the perfect car for a nature lover like Bea, who can handle herself out in the wilderness. That's good, because the CIA operates in a very untamed environment.

Ironically, we later learn in A Plague O' Both Your Houses that Ben drives a Hyundai Genesis, which Bea refers to as a poor man's James Bond car. For her husband, that sports car is his toy, his machine, his means of getting from Point A to Point B, alas with some style. He's not necessarily focused on practical, the way his wife is. Maybe that's why Bea is the one who does much of the heavy lifting at the Bard's Bed & Breakfast. Or is it why she's constantly seeking ways to manage her husband and get him to pitch in with the shared responsibilities?

For Ben, keeping his mind alert to potential threats means he is constantly on guard, and he's learned to provoke his wife as a way of practicing his parrying skills, to keep his reaction timing sharp and focused. At the same time, he knows that his work puts her in the potential line of fire, so he feels free to poke the bee's nest frequently, knowing that his bad behavior is actually helping to keep her safer. Bea never suffers fools gladly and she isn't the type of woman the CIA can just drop off in the countryside, hoping she'll settle down eventually. That's why Ben married her, to keep her safe, even if she'll probably never acknowledge that sacrifice, let alone thank him for it. The truth is they need each other to have some semblance of a normal life together.

Gabby Grimm drives a bright yellow VW Beetle with a moon roof. What does that tell you about her personality? It's not exactly a serious car, is it? It's the kind of car you toodle around town in, with maybe a couple of stickers attached to it. You can see Gabby coming down the road -- you'll smile and wave to her as she passes you. Gabby wants to put people at ease because she wants to head off crime before it happens. She's the kind of deputy that actually does bring out the best in people who want to earn her respect and admiration. Trouble is the bad guys don't give a rat's ass about what Gabby wants, any more than they care about what the people of Latimer Falls, Vermont need. That means that 90% of the time, Gabby's spreading sunshine around, and the other 10% of the time, she's in way over her head and learning how to navigate the deep end of life without her "swimmies".

That provides a pretty powerful magnetic pull on the heartstrings of a guy like Sam Hogan. He's used to the ugly side of war, and having a "good girl" girlfriend like Gabby is such a relief. The more she's challenged by nasty protagonists, the smarter she gets and the braver she is. Where will she be in five years? What will she do with her newly acquired skills and training? And what's Sam going to do when his days in Army special ops are over?

Have I surprised you with the amount of thought that went into writing these characters? As an author, I strive to make the characters I create as real and as human as possible. Writing a novel without realistic heroes is like playing demolition derby with Matchbox cars in the sand box. It's lots of banging metal and screeching sound effects, but a real waste of time. You don't really go anywhere on this imaginary journey and you don't really get anything of value from it. I want my readers to do a little thinking during a fun adventure. And, like real life, I use humor to tackle all that tension. Whether it's fighting terrorists, mobsters, or spies, sometimes laughing at the absurdity and the craziness is what keeps us sane. Live in fear and fear controls you. Laugh out loud and you begin to realize that sometimes the bad guys are nothing more than Keystone Cops. Find their Achilles' heel and you can defeat them. But first, know your own weaknesses and rise above them.

Legal Opinions Welcomed -- Did the New Gabby Grimm Cross a Line?

I recently got a book review on Library Thing that raises a good question about the legality of the law enforcement actions in my newest mystery thriller, "Little Red Riding Hood and the Secret Cookie Recipe". A former prosecutor, under the alias "Michigan Trumpet", wrote:

"The kidnapping of a high school girl and the sudden disappearance of her family, (including her father, Latimer Falls, Vt. Sheriff), snares Deputy Sheriff Gabby Grimm in a quickly evolving high stakes investigation. As she struggles to coordinate with her own Department, the State Police and the FBI, she suspects that there is a bad cop or two in the bunch. There is a fair amount of exposition which earlier readers might find tedious, but which was helpful to me, having not read the preceeding books in the series. The police corruption aspect had a 'ripped-from-the-headlines' feel for this New Englander familiar with the real-life Whitey Bulger case. Barton's version is completely her own and well imagined. The action is fast paced, as the suspense intensifies. There is one plot point that is integral to the story which would cause real-life law enforcement and prosecutors major ethical and legal problems. I took issue with it, but it didn't detract from my enjoyment overall. I would be intersted in hearing if others found it particularly troubling." (Library Thing reviews of Little Red Riding Hood and the Secret Cookie Recipe)

I have a confession. I actually agree with Michigan Trumpet. Now I'm curious. What do other legal eagles think? I'm happy to offer you the chance to read this book for free with Smashwords coupon code TG55Z (all you need for a free Smashwords account is an email address):

"Little Red Riding Hood and the Secret Cookie Recipe"

There was an incident in the book with which I genuinely struggled as an author. I personally found it repellent. Would I, as a real-life participant, have taken that path? Would I have made that decision? Sitting safely in my armchair, with a cozy floor lamp at my side, I'd like to say I'm better than that and I wouldn't even be tempted. But at the time of the incident as the fictional story unfolded, and knowing what the characters knew at that moment, I found it a tough call. Do you preserve the case for prosecution or do you save the victim and risk derailing the opportunities to delve deeper into organized crime? The buried bodies were plentiful, RICO would have been retroactive, and the financial profits for the criminal empire would have been seriously curtailed, had the law enforcement agents focused on the legal aspects. Maybe it would have even impacted how it all turned out, because those little short-cuts, those moments when folks looked the other way, enabled the bad guys to keep doing what they did.

I suspect that lawyers could argue for either side, depending on their legal interests. But what about the victim's right to be rescued? Dickens, in Oliver Twist, made a good point:

“If the law supposes that,” said Mr. Bumble,… “the law is a ass—a idiot. If that’s the eye of the law, the law is a bachelor; and the worst I wish the law is that his eye may be opened by experience—by experience.”

Which raises another question -- in the eyes of experienced law enforcement, what would be the thing to do in this case, understanding that time is of the essence and the perpetrators are known for their vicious brutality and love of torture? If you're sure that your bad guy isn't going to talk, to spill the beans that will enable you to move in and save the damsel in distress, in this case an innocent teenage girl who happens to be the daughter of the real target, Sheriff Rufus Parteger, can you tiptoe over that line to err on the side of life, rather than following the letter of the law?

In the heat of the moment, we tend to focus on the little guy, that person most in need. Cops protect and serve. It's their job to rescue the living, isn't it? When we step back, we see the big picture, how all the dots connect, and we begin to see that if we had those few extra seconds, if we changed this decision or that, maybe things would have been different. But when tensions are high, human beings are forced to make split-second decisions. It's the time when mistakes are not only critical, but sometimes deadly. In this case, Gabby and her cohorts made a decision that had some serious ramifications after the fact. But did they make the right decision over all? I'd love to know what those in the field of law enforcement and justice think.