I'm very happy to welcome Rolynn Anderson to my blog. I've read her books and I know you'll enjoy her post.
One of the books I recently published, FEAR LAND, is centered on the many shades of post traumatic stress suffered by people of all ages and walks of life. My concern about the malady intensified as I dug deeper into the research, so I decided to give a dollar of my profit on each paperback to a brain research foundation. I’m considering a dollar donation per book to victims of crime with my seventh novel, CEZANNE’S GHOST, coming out later in the year. That idea started me thinking about the readership of suspense, mystery and thriller novels.
Do victims of crime read books in my genre?
After their traumatizing experiences, do readers who once enjoyed books in my genre, switch to tamer stories in, say, the contemporary or inspirational categories? Eventually, given the time/distance to grieve and heal, do victims return to my genre?
Are most of the readers in my genre men and women who have never been victims of crime?
While you ponder these questions, consider FAINT, my last book in the boutique funeral planner suspense series:
The Funeral Planner Suspense Series - Book 3
By Award-winning Author, Rolynn Anderson
Their dead clients refuse to rest in peace.
How did small-town boutique funeral planning morph into crime-solving? Ask freelance embalmer Trudy Solomon, or Pete McDonald, a blind, forensic investigator. They’re unearthing mysteries of the deceased for their pregnant boss, Jan Keller, while her journalist husband, Roman, is benched by a ten million dollar defamation suit.
A dead client goes missing, and investigating his disappearance forces Trudy and Pete to confront their fiercely independent styles. When danger stalks them, will they blend brains, brawn and belief in one another to solve crimes and save themselves?
Excerpt from FAINT by Rolynn Anderson:
Guilt consumed her, its toxic waves crashing against her conscience, until she felt hollowed out. Brainless. Thoughtless. But she cried for the loss, an act which gave her hope. To cry for something meant she’d retained a remnant of what was right. If I cry harder, I’ll show everyone I’m a good person.
Good person? Ha! I criticize my own parents. My interest in cadavers is so intense I keep it a secret. And what I did to Theo? I tell anyone and I’ll not only lose my license, I might go to jail.
Her throat burned, the pounding in her head intensified, and she felt drained from crying.
Trudy opened her eyes to the brown of Pete’s. Thank God, you’re here, she wanted to say, but the thing in her throat wouldn’t let her. Someone grabbed her hand. Bella. ‘Bella Coola,’ Roman had nicknamed his grandmother. She was a cool woman, a friend.
Would they be here if they knew my secrets?