In the Book and Synopsis Torture #inspiration #ghoststories

Book one in my latest Romance Thriller is finished. I have books two and three brewing in my head. This series takes place in the mining town, turned ghost town, turned tourist haven, Joshua, Arizona. Joshua hangs on the side of Spirit Mountain.

Before I send my manuscript off to a publisher, I have to write the synopsis. The synopsis is only two to three pages, but is MUCH harder than writing the entire novel. I have to condense 350 pages down to three, give the whole story, make it engaging, and show my style. Publishers demand the synopsis.

Well, it's the holidays, and I doubt I'll be able to face the synopsis ordeal. I can't take punishment during my favorite part of the year.

Today is 12/6, so I'm sharing page 12 from chapter 6. Until it's off to the publisher, I'll share different partial scenes with you every few weeks. Maybe you can help me come up with a title!

He wouldn’t blame her? For what? She hadn’t done anything. She hadn’t killed Callie. Or was he reaching into her soul and seeing the doubt she’d harbored about him for so long? A fear so horrific she’d left it unspoken all these years. A fear he’d killed Callie.

Her tongue went dry with unspoken words—words they’d never ventured uttering. He seemed on the brink. A confession? She couldn’t ask for what he didn’t blame her. And if honest with herself, she didn’t want to know. His confession wouldn’t serve any purpose. She’d found peace with her doubts, her suspicions he’d committed murder—she’d moved beyond those awful years. Talking

about it would only disrupt their peace. Her throat constricted so tight she couldn’t speak.

He took another drink of coffee, swallowed deep, and squinted. “There’s something else. Yesterday, before I got to your place to fix the stairs, well…”

“What, Dad?” she managed a whisper, and her heart thumped hard against her ribcage.

“I saw a man walking along the street with some other people. But this guy, he looked like—Mark Donaldson.” He cupped both hands around his mug and peered into her eyes. “They all ducked into the ice cream shop before I got a real good look. And like I said, one thought led to another.” His lips tightened in a gesture of doubt that he should’ve said anything about the body or

the stranger to the daughter who had been so affected by the events.

Seeing Zac added to the anguish of his memories. She could understand. “I met him. His name is Zac Peartree.” And he walked through my dreams last night.

The tenseness in his face and hands tightened. “You did, huh? Then I’m not losing it.”

“No.” In spite of the seriousness of the conversation, she forced a smile. “He jarred me too. He and his friends came into the mercantile yesterday and the bar last night.”