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About the author:
New York Book Festival 2012 ~ Runner-up in Romance
What inspired you to write your book?
Through Glimmers I was able to bring elements from some of my favorite books. I was able to explore different personalities and talents through the perspective of four unique women. My taste is eclectic. I adore many styles of writing, as well as an array of settings, personalities and moods. I suspect that I’m not alone when it comes to altering my surroundings depending on how I feel at any particular moment: diving into a specific book, immersing inside a particular movie, devouring certain foods or humming to just the right song.
Here is a short sample from the book:
A sprinkle of dust encircles my head, and a cough escapes my lips. My hand flips past countless
discarded treasures as layers of stale perfume seep inside my nostrils. I stare at the aging fabric
and begin to seriously question my method.
“I know you’re hiding in here … somewhere,” I whisper as my eyes shift from an outdated
suit to an almost-adorable sundress. I haven’t found anything worth my efforts, yet I’ve combed
through almost every rack.
“I’m out of here.” As soon as the words enter my mind, my feet blaze a trail between
assembled outfits on display and full-length mirrors echoing my escape. No sooner do I reach
the exit when I hear someone clear her throat.
“Thanks for stopping by,” a voice slithers past a stack of folded T-shirts and creeps inside
my ears. I steal a look to my left, and the clerk offers me a better-luck-next-time smile.
My hand freezes on the door, and I remind myself that Paige MacKenzie is not a quitter. I
can’t give up, not until I’ve searched every inch of this place. These shirts, skirts, dresses, and
accessories — no matter their state of shabby chic — have personalities of their own, and each
one clamors for my attention. A prize is in here, lurking among tossed-on-the-beach-one-toomany-
times canvas bags and coffee-stained blouses.
I can feel it.
With that, my hunt shifts gears. Only a moment passes before an entire row of cardigans
hangs in a disheveled mess. To my surprise and delight, a cashmere sweater practically leaps
into my arms. I hold it in a deep embrace, caressing its velvety sleeves. Except its color is too
dull against my pale complexion, and right now, that’s the last thing I need.
A glint in the mirror catches my attention, and I casually glance over my shoulder. A golden
mannequin stands there with attitude, wearing the cutest pair of jeans I’ve ever seen. I rush over
and, somewhat rudely, strip the plastic goddess. With bated breath, I peek at the size … yes! I
hug my new jeans and continue my expedition.
Like a puppet on a string, I’m pulled toward artfully displayed shoes. Smooth and supple
leather beckons me. Wait a minute … could it be? I catch my breath and place my hand over my
chest. My weary feet float past ratty sandals and scuffed pumps. I grab the fold-over ankle boots
and ever so carefully slide my foot inside the tan-colored suede. I push a little farther, and my
toes graze the tip. The fit is just right! Other than a few signs of wear on the soles, they’re in
practically perfect condition. And they’ll look fabulous with my new/vintage jeans.
Victory is mine.