at Spreading the Word blog today. And though I’ve been writing fulltime for the
last nine years, (of course like most writers, I’ve been writing since I could
hold a crayon, but that’s another story all together) there are, no doubt, many of you who don’t
know my story. People often wonder what ever possesses a writer to actually sit
down and pound out their first manuscript. I think the most common answer is
that they were driven to do it. Nothing works right in their world if they’re
not sitting down letting the characters in their head have some play time on
Biology. Not English or European literature—Science. I grew up on the beautiful
coast of Maine where the tide pools are plentiful and the water is clear and
cold. Very cold! I dreamed of one day working beside Jacques Cousteau. But as I
went through college I found out something else about myself … I love to teach.
Anything. To anyone. And darn if I wasn’t good at it. So I minored in education
and got my secondary education teaching certificate.
environmental science at an outreach facility where students from pre-K to
adult came for my classes, many which took place outdoors. I was in heaven! I
loved working there and would have happily continued if fate hadn’t stuck her
foot out and tripped me up.
sclerosis, a degenerative disease that eats away at the sheathing around the
nerves in your brain causing faulty wiring. It attacks people differently,
causing different symptoms and problems. People with MS rarely look the same to
doctors. Unfortunately there is no cure, but wonderful advances in medicine to
keep disability to a minimum. I lived years without showing symptoms.
the disease had progressed to the point where I would be unable to keep up with
the physical demands of my job. Not one to sit around and do nothing, I
searched through my bag of talents and tried to find something I thought I
could do sitting on my butt. For whatever reason, I looked to writing.
(Probably because I’ve always had something to say.) Anyway, I took a writing class at the local
university, joined Romance Writers of America, found a local chapter of
like-minded authors and VOILA! a career was born!
changing my thought process. Because I taught science I always catalogued the
world around me, put it in simple terms to use later in a lesson plan. Now, I
look at the world as a whole lot of “what ifs”. What if that couple in the
store were having an affair? What if a virus killed off most of the male
population? What if shapeshifters actually existed? A whole TON of
take my characters places I can’t go and living out adventures I can no longer
where else … the coast of Maine.
perfect life…a handsome husband, three beautiful children, and her own
business. But beneath her thin veneer lies a dark past and self-doubts. When
evidence of her husband’s infidelity surfaces, Maggie leases a cottage on the
Maine coast and prepares for her inevitable divorce. But a serial killer is on
the hunt—and he’s marked Maggie as his next victim. Now her beachside retreat
is the focus of an undercover FBI investigation targeting the murderer who’s
left a trail of bodies across two states. As lies and secrets are revealed,
Maggie realizes her life depends on knowing who’s protecting her—and who’s got
her in his sights.
from hand to hand as if measuring time. Watching.
People rarely saw him, unless he chose for it to be so. And the woman
meandering along the water’s edge was no exception. She had no idea he was
admiring her. Appraising her. Measuring her.
whose hair rode the wind like black silk. She dragged her feet in the shallow
surf, her eyes cast down as if the ebb and flow of the ocean could soothe away
her troubles. The dip of her chin and the graceful arch of her neck spoke of a
irresistible. He imagined he could hear the sweet strains of her loneliness
carried on the evening breeze.
hungered for the kind of solace only he could offer. He replayed the scene over
and over again, long after she’d left the beach, long after the day had
surrendered to the night. How serendipitous for her to be here on his beach.
grace of her walk, the gentle swell of her hips and breasts, the lovely mane of
hair—and he knew.
waiting for you.
memory every detail of their encounter and formulating a plan to make the woman
his own. Satisfied, he strolled back to his cottage—his heart and soul as dark
as the murky shadows swallowing him.
for one reason or another or are you currently working at the job of your
heart? Because now that you know a little bit about me, you realize I’m curious
about stuff like that!
author, Nina Pierce, resides in New England with her high school sweetheart and
soul mate of twenty-nine years and several spoiled cats who consider her staff.
She spends her days at the keyboard writing romance stories, blissfully
creating chaos for her characters by throwing in a villain or two, a little
murder and a whole lot of mayhem as they struggle toward their
happy-ever-afters. You can check out all her books on her website (http://www.ninapierce.com) and follow her day-to-day happenings on
facebook (http://www.facebook.com/author.nina.pierce) or twitter (http://www.twitter.com/ninapierce).