Friday, March 18, 2011

Please welcome author Dawn Brown

How/why did you start to write?
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I've always written, but I really started to get serious about it after my son was born. Before that, I had never finished any of the books I'd started to write. So after I left my job to stay home and raise my son, I saw my chance to really make a go of writing. It was what I had always wanted to do, after all. I finished the story I was working on when I got pregnant, which was a horrible sci-fi, romantic horror thing. It was awful and lives in a drawer never to be seen by human eyes again, but I had finished it. I knew that if I finished one,I could finish another. So I started my next book, Living Lies
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What was your first published piece?
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It was Living Lies
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Where was it published?
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I sold Living Lies to Samhain Publishing.

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How long ago?
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Living Lies came out in June 2008.

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What did you do before embarking on your writing career? Was it an asset to your writing? How?
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I was contract and inventory admin manager for a computer and rentals and leasing company. And I really don't believe it helped my writing at all. : )

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What inspires you?
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I think I'm most inspired by the possiblity of what if. I also love the idea of putting ordinary people into extraordinary situations and seeing how it all plays out.

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Please share one of your successful marketing techniques?
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Hmm. Marketing is not my strong suit, actually. I'm still learning as I go.

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Thanks so much for having me!
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It was my pleasure, Dawn.







The Curse of Culcraig Blurb


After a devastating prsonal tragedy, history professor Hillary Bennett seeks refuge in the quaint Scottish village of Culcraig, hoping to research a legend and salvage her career. Instead, she finds her hostess dead, and her hopes for the future pinned to the woman's black sheep heir.

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The last thing Caid Douglast nees is a decrepit manor house to remind him of his estranged family, but he does need the money selling the house would bring to pay off his debts. In desperation he offers to honor his great aunt's arrangement with Hillary--if she pays him to say at Glendon House and view his ancestory's journals, he'll have the money to fix up the family mausoleum and sell it.

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But an ancient curse hovers over the village, and the secret to lifting it lies in the journals. Will Caid and Hillary realize what they have an uncover the truth before a twisted killer silences them forever?


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Someone was in the house with them...




"You know," Hillary said, keeping her voice low. "This house is huge. We could check each room individually, but who's to say that whoever's here won't just keep moving around as we search, eventually working their way into a room we've already checked? We'll never be one hundered per cent sure we're alone."
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"Are you suggesting we separate?"
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Her grip on his hand tightened. Did she even realize she'd done that?
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"It would probably make more sense to split up. If we worked from opposite ends and met in the middle, it would reduce the chance of an intruder slipping away. But as I said, this place is huge and we're only two people, the odds of our mystery person eluding us are still pretty good. Not to mention the confusion."
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"Confusion?" Caid tried to suppress his grin.
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"Yes. If we separated, we could easily wind up tracking each other. At least together, if we hear or see anything out of the ordinary, we know that it has to be someone else."
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"What an astounding rationalization."
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She frowned at him in obvious consternation. "I think I made some very good points."
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He smiled. "Aye, you did. I'm sure you've convinced yerself quite nicely. Did you bring the subject up simply because you were concerned that I might think you liked holding my hand?"
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He couldn't stop his smile from widening, especially when she struggled to untangle her fingers from his, but as they entered the kitchen, he tightened his grip.
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"Dinnae be like that. I'm just having a wee bit of fun with you."
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She ceased struggling as her delicately shaped brows drew together in disbelief. "That wasn't here earlier."
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"What?" He turned to the direction she pointed.
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A brass fireplace poker lay dead centre on the battered harvest table. On the floor, a series of watery footprints stretched between the back door to the table.
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Christ's sakes, Hillary hadn't just been frightened alone in an old, there had been someone else here.
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But who? And

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Buy Links


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Author Links

4 comments:

Kathleen Ann Gallagher's Place to Reflect said...

The curse of the Culcraig sounds intriguing. I enjoyed the excerpt, too.
Congrats!

Dawn said...

Thanks, Kathleen! I really enjoyed writing it.

Jennifer Shirk said...

I started getting interested in writing more after my kidlet was born too. I guess we both needed an "escape". LOL!

Dawn said...

Ain't that the truth. ;-) Thanks for stopping by, Jennifer.