When One
Door Closes
by Sandy
Wolters
Sandy Wolters is one of the most generous FB and twitter "sharer" around. But she's also a prolific writer with four other novels to date. Her last novel, Soul Mates, won first place in the Paranormal Romance Guild’s Reviewer Choice Awards for Paranormal Romance-Novella.
1 – You write about strong
women. Why is it so important to you?
My mother was raised when women were
supposed to be compliant and submissive.
While this worked for her in her day, surprisingly enough, she wanted
more for me. She wanted me to have the
tools needed to make it through life and stand up for myself and those I love. I know this must have been very difficult for
her, to break away from the past that was so engrained in her all those years
ago, but she was always there for me, always telling me that I could do
anything, no matter what society told me.
My husband and I had two
daughters. We wanted to make sure they
had the strength and the belief in themselves that no matter what obstacles
they face, they can make a difference in whatever they pursue and whatever is
important to them. In order to do this,
weakness is not part of the equation.
They must have an inner strength and not let others that believe
differently push them around. They need
to have the fortitude to stick to their guns and not bow to anyone. Only they can go after what they want, no one
else will do it for them.
My oldest daughter, Shandelle, is
such a beautiful woman. She has been
forced to face difficult health challenges, but her strength is finding humor
in everything and passing on the warmth of her spirit as she goes along her
life's path. She's fought long and hard
to get where she is and there is no way that would have been possible without
the inner strength she exudes and shares with others.
My youngest daughter, Pilar, is
living and working in a man's world. She
currently works for Arizona Game and Fish.
She hunts, fishes, camps in a tent and is a marksman with any firearm
including a bow. While she is incredibly
beautiful and charming, these traits get her nowhere when it comes to her
career. She can stand with any man and
best most of them.
In other words, woman are no longer
considered doormats in real life. I, as
a reader, do not like to read about weak women, and certainly as an author, I
don't give those characteristic to my leading ladies. I've taught my girls to question everything,
no matter how intimidating the person they are facing is and don't give in to
anything until it feels right for them.
2 – Some of your books
have a ghostly paranormal twist. What is it that draws you to it?
We've all lost people we love and
many of us have had experiences with them after their deaths. Some of those experiences are unobtrusive,
possibly a message from the other side to let us know they are still with us
and to encourage us to move on. Some
experiences in my books are more in your face to get a point across. This is the type of ghostly encounters in my
books. There is nothing meant to be
scary about these scenes. They are meant
to be sweet, touching scenes that hopefully people can read and walk away
feeling they've just been witness to something really special.
I never force these paranormal
events in my books. When they feel
right, I add them. I've also had
characters that have been sensitive like having visions of things to come. I enjoy adding these elements because many
people can relate to them in one way or another.
3 - Another Door Opens,
the second book in this series, will be released soon. Tell us a bit about it.
Another
Door Opens will be Clay and Nancy's story. I'm really excited about this because you
couldn't have two more different characters than these coming together and
finding love with each other.
Clay, known worldwide as Silk, the very
sexy rock star, has enjoyed the perks of being the most sought after male
singer/musician in the spotlight. Women
flock to him and he doesn't like to disappoint them. He's used to being given whatever he wants,
whenever he wants it, that is of course until he meets Nancy.
There were two stand out characters in
Book 1 of the Rock Star series, When One
Door Closes, that people are constantly remarking on or asking me about -
Barney Fife, the sweet Neapolitan Mastiff and Martha, the motherly figure with
an attitude. Both of these characters
will continue on in Another Door Opens, and bring the reader more laughter with
their antics.
Blurb:
Her marriage
a disaster, Lilly closes the door to her personal life. Can meeting Bruce open
a door to a new life or will her fear shut her off from love?
All Lilly has ever wanted to do is sing, but
being an internationally famous superstar has turned her life into a living
nightmare. Closing the door on her destructive marriage, she runs to her best
friend's rural home in northern Arizona, hoping to stay out of the public's eye
and sort out her life.
Bruce Silk, a Flagstaff police officer,
doesn't approve of his brother's rakish rock star lifestyle but still keeps an
eye on his remote home when he's out on tour. More than once he's had to arrest
groupies who invaded the property to steal some small memento from the famous
Clay Silk. So why does he feel sucker-punched when he slaps the cuffs on this
latest trespasser?
When One Door Closes is the first book in the
“Rock Star Series.” Another Door Opens, the second book, will be released in
mid-2014. Both books are stand-alone novels.
Author:
I’ve been an
avid reader for years. To my husband’s dismay, I have bookshelves full of
books, rooms full of books, boxes full of books. My cars have books in them. I
just can’t seem to get rid of them after I read them. You just never know when
you will want to read it again, right? When my husband bought me a Kindle, it
cut down on our need for storage, but it opened me up to books that I might
never have experienced otherwise.
The biggest transition in my relationship
with books occurred, however, when I, much to my surprise, became an author. I
had started having dreams about people I didn’t know. I started looking forward
to my dreams every night. Then I realized that I was daydreaming about these
people as well. I'd just be sitting there, and these people and their antics
would pop into my mind. Finally, I gave in and began writing their story down,
something I had never dreamed of doing.
After I wrote my first book Maggie Mae, I had
do idea what to do with it. After trying the traditional route for a little
while, my husband pushed me in the direction of ebooks, and I’ve never looked
back.
My books invariably feature strong women. My
husband, Michael, and I have raised two strong daughters, Pilar and Shandelle,
and they inspire the characters in my stories. As a matter of fact, Pilar was
the main character in my book A Brother’s Love, and Shandelle is the main
character in my new release Soul Mates. Justice for Emily was the most
difficult book I’ve written, and that was because Emily was the victim of a
sadistic, cruel, and abusive husband, who just happened to be the Chief of
Police. One of my readers described this books as a “good mystery laced with
sex, violence, ghosts and spirits.” The only thing her summary left out was the
strength of the two women in this story: Emily and Rachael.
I’ve had fun with all the books I’ve written.
I think the fact that I insert real events into my books, things that have
actually happened in my family’s lives, is like having a private joke. Knowing
that Michael Rogers in Maggie Mae is based on my husband tickles my fancy. I am
a very lucky woman!
Although
I write romance novels, they always contain a paranormal twist. My novel, Soul
Mates, has the added element of time travel accomplished through the magical
arts. I imagine my future writings will always contain romance with strong
women and men of character, influenced by events that reach beyond what we
consider normal, and perhaps seasoned with a little touch of whimsy.
Website:
http://sandywolters.weebly.com/
Blog - Sandy's Spotlight:
http://sandywolters.weebly.com/sandys-spotlight.html
FB:
https://www.facebook.com/sandy.wolters.5
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/SandyWolters
Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4772120.Sandy_Wolters
Purchase
Links:
Amazon Geo URL: http://a-fwd.com/asin=B00I6S8KA0
B&N:
http://ow.ly/tFMSh
iTunes:
https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/when-one-door-closes/id816019707?mt=11
ARE:
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-whenonedoorcloses-1411500-149.html
Smashwords:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/404832
Excerpt:
Chapter One
Out of habit, Bruce glanced through the glass
next to his brother's front entryway to check the alarm status. Seeing the
green light signaling that the alarm had been disconnected, his body drew taut
with tension. He pulled his Glock out and quietly checked the door. Locked.
Slipping the key into the lock, he gently turned it and opened the door to an
unknown danger. He moved silently through the house, clearing each room as he
calmly and methodically moved forward, looking for the intruder he knew was
there.
He had never cared for the opulence Clayton's
home displayed, nor the way his brother lived, but he'd be damned if he'd allow
anyone to take anything that belonged to his brother while he was out playing
the rock star celebrity role.
Bruce crept into the living room where a fire
was crackling in the fireplace. Obviously someone felt at home in his brother’s
house. Bruce’s training as a police officer had taught him to slow down, to
take everything in, to feel his surroundings. Something was different, he
thought to himself. His eyebrows knitted together, he tilted his head to the
side, trying to decipher what he was feeling. The air was thick with something
he couldn't identify in words. The surroundings were familiar, but everything
felt different. Wrong. Turning slowly in a circle, he scrutinized everything in
the room, searching for an answer to what was so off about the feel of this
home that he had been inside hundreds of times, but nothing tangible had been
disturbed in the house.
As his gaze slowed, his gut clenched as he
recognized the feeling that flowed over him. It was an overwhelming sense of
sadness. It was the imperceptible, the thick veil of anguish, that was gnawing
at him.
His breaths came quickly. Trying to wash this
paralyzing sensation from himself with his free hand, he clutched his chest.
His heart rate had sped up. Waves of sorrow were washing over him. His eyes
closed, and he shivered involuntarily. Something was undeniably awry in this
house. He just hoped it didn't get him killed.
While trying to steady his nerves, he heard
it. Going completely still, he listened. Somewhere in the distance, a cell
phone rang. He crept forward, trying to follow the incessant ringing, before
finally realizing it was coming from outside on the back deck.
"Gotcha," he whispered as he moved
toward the oversized double doors leading to the back deck. The cell phone
started ringing again. What an idiot! He smirked at the stupidity of a burglar
who couldn't turn his damn cell phone off for the amount of time it took to
pull off a B&E. Then again, the idiot must be planning for a prolonged stay
since he took the time to light a fire in the fireplace. Bruce was looking
forward to educating this bastard.
As the back deck came into view through the
large double doors, his suspicions were confirmed when he saw a roaring fire in
the pit. To the right of the pit, a young woman sat at the table, staring out
into space, her hand clutching a bottle of whiskey and tears rolling down her
cheeks as if she'd lost everyone and everything important to her. The cell
phone sat in front of her, its ringing falling on deaf ears.
Her beauty was staggering—long, luxurious,
blonde hair, the allure of her face so moving that poets had been writing about
such a face for centuries. Her eyes were hidden by the shadows of the night,
but he could see the tension in her face, which was covered with tears. Even
camouflaged from head to toe with the afghan his mother had made and given to
Clay all those years ago, he could see an air of elegance surrounding her as if
she were some kind of royalty. He watched her for quite some time, trying to
decipher exactly what kind of a threat she might be.
Finally, with no answer to his question, he
slipped out between the doors and moved stealthily toward her. The air around
her was thick with pain, and it washed over him afresh. The man in him, the
protector, his heart and body, wanted to run to her and wrap her in a warm,
loving embrace all the while the cop in him, his mind, was yelling at him to
put her in handcuffs and whisk her away to jail.
Silence. The damned phone finally stopped
ringing. He snapped out of his reverie long enough to mentally kick himself.
His anger rose, and a frown crossed his face. "A damn groupie," he
whispered. That thought dispelled his fantasy and woke him up to the reality,
stirring his anger even more.
Pointing his gun at her, he ordered,
"Let me see your hands."
Nothing. She didn't even flinch. Her mind was
somewhere far off, too great a distance to hear him.
He moved closer. "Hey," he yelled,
"let me see your hands, or I'm going to have to take you down and cuff you
on the ground."
Her body jerked when he yelled, and the bottle
of Southern Comfort she'd been holding fell off the table. Wincing, she stayed
perfectly still, except for holding her hands in the air, too afraid to look at
the man yelling at her.
"Keep your hands in the air. Stand up
and move away from the table," he ordered.
She stood quickly, her hair bouncing around
her shoulders, catching the light of the fire. Bruce fought to ignore the
impact that such a simple act was having on him. Finding comfort in protocol,
he holstered his gun and moved toward her with his cuffs. He pulled her right
arm behind her and then her left as he restrained her.
Still feeling a little jittery from what felt
like an emotional assault on him by this woman, he did what he did best. He
struck out with his caustic words, fully intending to make her feel the fool
instead of himself. "Don't you groupies have a network or something? Can't
you just spread the word that Silk's house is out of bounds? I just don't
understand you women."
He swung her around. "I mean, look at
you! You're beautiful. Why are you wasting your time with a man who doesn't
give a shit about women? Don't you know his reputation?" He angrily swiped
his hand through his hair. "Good Lord! He'd swallow you up and spit you
out without so much as a blink. You should have a little more respect for
yourself than that."
Watching this man who had just handcuffed her
giving her a motivational speech made her smile before sending her into
hysterical laughter. Being a cop, Bruce knew that people reacted differently to
stressful situations, but her laughter startled him nonetheless. Was she one of
those certifiably crazy groupies? Instinctively, his hand moved to his
holstered gun. The movement set her to cackling so hard, she couldn't stand up
straight and was having a difficult time catching her breath. When she did, it
degenerated into snorting.
He took a step back, his anger growing
steadily. "What the hell is so funny?" Still bent over, she held her
hands up behind her back so he could see them and then held up one finger to
indicate she'd need a minute as she convulsed with laughter yet again.
Putting his hands on his waist, he grew more
and more agitated as he stood there, placing his weight on his left foot while
angrily tapping his right. Who the hell does this woman think she is? His
irritation escalated.
She stood up with a broad smile on her face,
and it was obvious she genuinely felt better. The sorrow he had seen on her
face earlier was still there, but a sparkle of playfulness had emerged.
Lilly watched the cop’s face for the familiar
reaction. She couldn't believe it. This cop didn’t recognize her. For the first
time in a very long time, she was just another woman. Incredible! Her smile
grew brighter, the warmth of her very being radiating out from her, as she
immersed in this newfound freedom. Before Bruce knew what he was doing, he
smiled back. Dammit, he thought as he transformed his smile into a scowl again.
"I'm sorry. There's been some sort of a
mistake, officer. Ding … I mean Silk invited me to stay here."
Bruce waved his hand at her, clearly
dismissing her as a liar. "He would have told me. I watch after the place
for him when he's gone."
Her smile never faded, completely unnerving
him. "Well, he actually gave me the key two years ago along with an open
invitation to visit whenever I wanted." She turned her back to him and
awkwardly held her cuffed hand out to him in greeting. She cocked her head and
declared, "Hi, I'm Lilly. It's nice to meet you."
Knowing that Clay, or Silk as his hundreds of
thousands of fans knew him, had never invited even one of his numerous lovers
to what he referred to as "his real home," Bruce returned her gesture
with a skeptical stare.
When it was clear this angry police officer
was not going to shake her cuffed hand, she turned and nodded to her phone on
the table. "There's my phone. Call him. He'll vouch for me."
He reached into his pocket and pulled his own
phone out.
"Excuse me, officer, but you should
probably use my phone. He's not going to recognize your number and probably
won't answer it. He'll answer if you use my phone, no matter what he's doing.
We're close friends."
His face lit up with a mischievous smile like
he was getting ready to tell her a funny story. I should probably tell her my
brother always answers my calls, but I'll just keep that to myself for now. He
chuckled.
Lilly couldn't have looked away from him if
she had wanted to. There was something so masculine about him. The man exuded
an inner strength and--what is it? she thought to herself, and then it hit
her—a cockiness about him, that drew her to him like a moth to flame. As much
as she wanted to examine what was so attractive about his personality, she was
having difficulty looking past the uniform. There is just nothing sexier than a
great big man in uniform. She grinned.
Wishing she would stop smiling at him, he
held her gaze as he picked her phone up. Going through the contact list, he
looked back at her, smirking from ear to ear. "Hmm. I'm not seeing him
listed in your contacts."
She gave him a questioning look and then
giggled knowingly. "Oh, I'm sorry. He's listed as Dingo."
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. Dingo? He
turned his attention back to the phone, looked at the number listed under the
name Dingo and realized that it, in fact, was his brother's private cell phone
number. He pressed the send button and stood there, staring at this handcuffed,
regal vision in front of him.
He heard Clay answer the phone and say in the
background, "Don't worry. I'm going to get to that spot, sweetheart. This
is an important call, and I have to take it. I'll be right back."
He closed his eyes and shook his head at the
thought of his brother answering a call from this woman while having sex with
another. The thought that she must be pretty important to Clay irritated the
hell out of him. The next words Bruce heard lifted his anger level to an all
new high. "How is my luscious baby girl doing?" Then in a voice so
sincere that Bruce couldn't believe it was actually coming from his brother,
Clay declared, "Damn, I've missed you so much, Lilly. Please tell me
you're calling to say you'll join me for the rest of the band's tour."
It took a moment before Bruce could string a
sentence of words together that didn't solely contain swear words unbefitting a
cop in charge of the situation. Dammit, she must be really important to him, he
thought. Why did that make him feel so bad, he wondered as he finally found his
tongue.
"Just hold on a damn minute, Clay."
Putting the cell phone down on the table, he pulled his key out of his pocket
and walked over to Lilly. She twirled around so he could reach the handcuffs.
He quickly uncuffed her.
She turned back to him while rubbing her
wrists. "I'll go in and make some hot chocolate for us while you finish
your call." Reaching the double doors into the house, she turned back.
"Please tell Ding ... Clayton that I'm fine and not to worry about
me." With that, she went inside the house.
Bruce stood there and watched her go, his
hands clenching into fists, not understanding why the thought of this woman as
his brother's girlfriend was so upsetting. He turned his attention back to the
phone in time to hear Clay screaming profanities directed at him. He picked the
phone up and yelled back. "You should probably tell me when you invite
guests to your home so I don't end up taking them to jail."
"My God! Lilly's at my house? Is she all
right? Is she hurt?" Clay cried out into the phone.
Once again, Clay surprised him with the depth
of concern in his voice. "Clay, she's fine." Hesitating, he added,
"Something's happened because when I found her, she was crying and …"
Without thinking, he put his hand on his chest and rubbed it, trying to scrub
away the pain he had not only seen, but felt emanating from her.
"And?" Clay screamed, impatient for
a response.
Bruce shrugged his shoulders. "I don't
know. She's sad. Really sad," he whispered.
After a slight hesitation, Clay said,
"I'm coming. I'm going to cancel a few stops on my tour, and I'll take a
flight out as soon as possible."
Shocked by his brother's uncharacteristic
solicitude, Bruce interrupted him. "What? You're going to cancel your
tour? For a woman? What the hell is going on? Who is she, and what is she to
you?"
Bruce could hear the surprise in Clay's
voice. "Umm, dude, you're kidding, right?"
Sighing in frustration, Bruce said, "I'm
feeling a little out of the loop, Clay. Will you please tell me what is going
on?"
"Jeez, Bruce, do you ever pick up a
newspaper, a magazine, turn the TV on, listen to the radio? The person you met
tonight is Lilly. Lilly Cabrera." Pausing, Clay shrugged as he spoke.
"You probably won't know her last name. No one does, but Lilly is famous,
dude. She’s an international superstar. Where the hell have you been living the
last three or four years?
"She's also very special to me. She's
gotten me through some pretty rough times in my life, and I'm going to be there
for her when she needs someone." Pausing, he added, "That time is
now, Bruce. You can't let anyone know she's there. She'll never get any
peace."
Over the phone, Bruce could hear Clay
slamming doors and unzipping what sounded like a suitcase. "I'm on my way
there. Don't leave her alone. If she's there, it's bad. She's going to need
someone with her. I'm worried about her. Take care of her, Bruce, until I get
there." Without any further conversation, the phone went dead.
Bruce
looked at the now dead phone he held in his hand with absolute astonishment.
"Stay with her?" he asked out loud. "You've got to be
kidding!"
