Saturday, August 6, 2016
By Terri Lee
Genre: Romance/Women's Fiction
IN SAVANNAH GEORGIA, THE GARDENS AREN'T THE ONLY THINGS KEEPING SECRETS.
"I want to know what goes on in your head," Adam said. "What do you think about? What are your dreams?"
"My dreams," Savannah said, picking up her spoon and stirring her coffee again. She stared into the swirling depths as if she could conjure up the specter of the girl who once had dreams to spare. "Funny thing is—I got everything I wanted."
Where do you go when you find out everything you wanted isn't what you need?
Savannah Palmerton picks up a brush and heads to an art class, desperate to find a piece of the girl she used to be, before the country club dances and the boring dinner party conversations. In 1963 the country is still playing in her innocence, but there are rumblings beneath the surface. The fabric of America is just beginning to fray around the edges. So it is in Savannah Palmerton's life.
Love, betrayal and family secrets create a lethal cocktail that has Savannah's world unraveling at her feet. Set against a southern backdrop of garden parties and civil rights marches, Paper Castles is a sultry mix of sweet-tea and murder. Sex and secrets.
Paper Castles is the best kind of love story. Where a woman must first learn to love herself.
ROMANCE MAY BE PRETTY BUT LOVE STORIES ARE REAL.
Down every road is a story. The telling of my story has a distinct before and after quality to it. My life before, was a love story. A Hallmark movie. With a couple of I Love Lucy episodes thrown in for good measure. Boy meets girl in High School. Sweeps her off her feet and marries her. But after 41 years of love and laughter the bottom fell out with the uttering of one little word. Cancer. A love I thought I'd grow old in, slipped away in the middle of the night. Leaving me to ask, what now?
Thankfully the writing that sustained me through my entire life was there to catch me when I fell. At first I poured it all out onto the pages of my journal. A mix of words, ink, and tears tucked safely between the leather covers.
Here I am in the after part of my story. But the after is also the NOW. Eventually the purging of emotion led me back to another story that had been pushed to the back burner during trying times. Characters who had been waiting patiently began to nudge and push. It was time to sit down at the computer and let the story be told. Let the healing begin.
When I ask the question, who am I now?...I realize though the road may have changed, I'm still a storyteller.
If it's one thing I know about, it's love. But I'm not interested in simply writing about; boy meets girl. My tag line is: Romance may be pretty but love stories are real. And that's where I want to be when I'm writing...down deep where the real story lives. Because love is messy. And glorious. I want to roll around in a story and fall in love. Want to come with me?
On Facebook: http://bit.ly/1t64wzz
On Twitter: https://twitter.com/terrileeauthor