The house is quiet for the first time in weeks. You finally have a free moment to start writing the novel that's been running through your mind for years. You've collected hundreds of notes written on napkins, snippets of paper, and the inside of empty candy bar wrappers. This is the day you've told yourself nothing is going to stop you. You're going to try to piece it all together. To make those characters in your mind finally speak through the written word.     As many times as I've sifted through that crumpled mess of empty wrappers on my computer desk, I have found one thing to be true...each novel has its own natural beginning and at no time have I been able to plan that moment.
     My advice to those who want to write a novel? Get yourself a few chocolate candy bars,( my personal favorite is dark -chocolate with almond), a large glass of water, ( eating chocolate always makes me thirsty) and start writing. The words will come, the story will develop, and soon you'll find your characters jumping off the page to meet you.

  That's how it was for me when I wrote my current novel, Dance of the Heart, a clean romance filled with family, humor, and healing.

Losing a parent to tragedy when you’re young can snatch from you the life you were born to live. Maggie Campbell certainly knows how that feels. Her mother drowned when she was twelve leaving her with an uncaring father and a broken heart. As soon as she was old enough, she left her family and the painful memories behind moving to California. Just when she thought her life was settled, a letter from her sister inviting her to come home to celebrate their grandmothers ninetieth birthday forces her to face the past. Returning to the family home after a seven-year absence, Maggie finds little has changed except for the presence of a new neighbor, Desmond Kinsley, who is suspiciously entangled in all their lives. Maggie soon discovers that her family’s finances are under the control of this handsome, charming stranger. When once again tragedy comes to the ones she loves, Desmond is the only one who can help. It seems Maggie must accept his involvement for now, but at what cost? When she realizes her own happiness may be in jeopardy, Maggie must decide how much she trusts her own feelings and the man who seems to hold the key to all their futures. Will she choose to finally let her heart feel again, or will she run forever lost in grief?

  Below are a few pages from Dance of the Heart. Maggie has come to see grandmother for the first time since she arrived back home and finds someone else instead...The neighbor, Desmond, who already proved to be irritating and annoying the day before at her sister's house...

    An audible groan escaped her lips when she saw a man lying under her grandmother’s sink. He raised his head as she entered the room. Standing there staring at him, she thought he looked a little familiar. When he pulled himself from under the sink and sat up, it did not take long to realize it was the same man who had been so ill-mannered yesterday at Jilly’s, the one who’d returned Martins tools. He had changed out of his suit and was now wearing a pair of faded grey overalls.
     “What are YOU doing here?” she asked, trying to calm her rapidly racing heart.
     “Working,” he replied in his usual unpleasant tone.
     “Where’s my grandmother?” Maggie asked, coming closer, “How did you get in? 
    “I came in the same way most people enter a house, through the front door.” He stood up and turned on the faucet, keeping his back to Maggie as he began washing his hands. “Your grandmother has gone into town,” he continued as he turned off the faucet and reached for the kitchen towel hanging on the stove. “It should be fairly obvious why I’m here. He turned to her as he dried his hands.
    To her annoyance, he just stood there for a moment, staring at her with this smug look on his face.  Then he said, “So… you’re Maggie. The granddaughter who lives in California and never calls or visits her family.” He put the towel down on the counter and walked past her to the refrigerator.
    Maggie couldn’t hide the surprise that he knew her name.
    “When you were at Martins yesterday, I had my suspicions. This morning, your grandmother confirmed your visit. Your family talks of you often. A shame really. If only you cared for them half as much.” He opened the door of the refrigerator, took out a bottle of water, twisted off the top, and swallowed a rather large gulp. Again, he just stared at her.     It was official, she definitely did not like this man. “I care for my family very much,” Maggie said. “What business is it of yours how I feel about them, Mr.…Kinsley, is it?” 
    “I’m glad to see you’ve come to visit them, especially your grandmother,” he said, ignoring her question. “You probably thought you’d better make a quick trip home to see her before it’s too late.” He raised his water bottle in a toast. “Very wise of you.” He took another drink.
    “Who do you think you are making judgments about my relationship with my family?” Maggie asked, no longer able to hold her temper or her tongue. “I happen to love my grandmother dearly. I don’t see what business it is of yours how things are between us.” She walked over, stood within inches of his face, and stared boldly into his steel blue eyes. “Since the first time I met you, you’ve been unpleasant. I can’t imagine how you’ve become a friend to my family, and frankly I don’t care.” She straightened her shoulders and steadily held her gaze. “I will not be treated like this in my grandmother’s home. I want you to pick up your tools and leave!”
     He took a slow deliberate drink of his water, his eyebrows raised and his mouth turned up in what could only be described as a satisfied grin. “Sorry to disappoint you, Miss Campbell. I will not be leaving until your grandmother returns home. Since I was the one invited here this morning, and you were not, perhaps you should be the one to leave if you find it so unpleasant to be around me. I promise not to tell your grandmother about our conversation or your nasty temper.” He winked at her. “It will be our little secret.”
    Maggie was now shaking from head to toe with anger, her hands clenched in tight fists at her side. Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of her chest, and she made a hissing sound every time she exhaled. Drawing in a deep breath, Maggie opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted when the kitchen door swung open and her grandmother entered the room holding several large grocery bags in her arms. Gram appeared startled as she looked from one to the other.
    “My dear Maggie, is it really you?” she said barely above a whisper. She quickly set the bags down on the kitchen table. Reaching out, she took Maggie in her arms, and held her tight. Instead of hugging her grandmother, Maggie was standing perfectly still. Her arms at her side, her body rigid, too angry to respond to her grandmother’s affection. Gram seemed to feel the tension in her granddaughter’s body. Pulling back, she put her hand gently on one of Maggie’s red cheeks. “Whatever is the matter, my dear?” Gram asked. “Are you feeling all right?”
    Maggie reached up and put her hand over her grandmother’s. As soon as she felt the warmth of Gram’s skin, she couldn’t hold back the tears of anger any longer. She had looked forward to this moment for seven years and was not going to let this awful man ruin it!

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