Cadence Beach Guest Post and $10 Amazon Giftcard Giveaway!

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I have a very odd and somewhat interesting system for coaxing a story idea out of my vast, seemingly unlimited imagination. I begin with a title. I don’t always stick with this title (I did with Cadence Beach, however), but I begin here. First the title, then the plot idea follows so close behind it’s nearly a simultaneous event. It’s difficult to explain with any real clarity, but that’s how the ideas tumble from my funny, little brain.
In Oregon, there is a seaside town by the name of Cannon Beach. That’s where my inspiration for the location came from, as well as the title. Originally from Oregon (born and raised in the suburb of Beaverton), I visit home often. On one of my summer visits, I wound up in Cannon Beach, and voila, the tittle was conceived along with the initial plot idea (again, that sort of simultaneous process).
The character development happened in much the same way most writers describe: one word at a time. In other words, as I began to write, they each developed, or came to me. I did not have any preconceived notions about who they were, they just “appeared” as I began to write. Interestingly, I began with the psychotic character, Allan Roth, and developed Josie and Gordon (as well as the rest of the cast of characters) along the way. I don’t know where Allan came from; he just popped into my head and wouldn’t go away. But as I’m an unabashed romantic, Josie and Gordon followed naturally.
There is one thing I know for sure before I begin any story; each one will undoubtedly have a romance intertwined and a happy (or happily satisfying) ending. I subscribe to the Jane Austen writing motto in that I feel real life offers enough unhappy endings, stories are a place to escape to and walk away from with a spring in your step and a flutter in your heart (or a feeling close to it!).
I love to read, and I read from several genres, not all ending happily, but when I write, I’m in control, and I want to leave the reader feeling good. That’s just me.

Excerpt #1

Allan released his wife’s neck and sealed her swollen, blue mouth with a kiss. “Not even in death shall we part,” he whispered against her wet cheek before rising to dress slowly, methodically.

Like a photographer adjusting his model, he fanned Suzanne’s long, dark hair across the pillow. He pressed her legs together and gently arranged her arms by her sides then sat in the chair by the window and waited for darkness to fall.

At midnight, he scooped Suzanne carefully into his arms and carried her to their back yard where he’d often found her on her knees, lovingly tending the plants. He lowered her into the hole he’d dug earlier beneath the maple tree.

“Goodnight, my love,” he whispered, shoveling dirt over her naked body. “I’ll be seeing you.”

He pulled out 15 of the yellow daffodils Suzanne had planted along the edge of the yard and replanted them in three rows of five in the mound of soil that concealed his wife.