Interview with Mary Wehr (A Heart’s Endeavor)

1. Where do you hail from and what do you love most about your hometown?
            My hometown is Minersville, Pa.  In the summer I’d walk to the small candy stores. There used to be a movie theater and some small diners and ice cream shops. A lot of businesses have closed down since then. It was a nice quiet town. We were able to watch the high school football games from our front porch.
            2. As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
            I always wanted to be veterinarian. I love animals, but I can’t handle the sight of blood or see an animal be put to sleep. If it’s suffering I understand that it’s the best thing to do, but I couldn’t administer the shot.
            3. Tell us about your latest book.  What inspired the book?
I used to work in a convenience store. I met a lot of nice people. I looked forward to seeing them every day. They’d talk about their problems and quite of few of them suffered with depression. Most were women and it seemed to help when they talked about their illness. I suffer with depression also. The idea to write a romance with the heroine suffering with depression came to me a few years after I quit. I thought maybe someone who read my story could relate and realize that depression is an illness. There’s nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about.
            4. Do you have anything new in the works and can you tell us a bit about it? I did submit an erotic short but I haven’t heard anything yet. It’s an m/f/m story. The heroine is one of the characters in ‘A Heart’s Endeavor’.
            5. Is there anything you find particularly challenging about writing?  POV, point of view is sometimes difficult for me and I tend to second guess myself.
            6. What advice would you give to writers just starting out?Keep writing and don’t give up. They will be rejections. Don’t take them personally. If you do receive a contract listen to your editor. They know what to do to make your story even better.
            7. Do you ever suffer from writer’s block? If so, what do you do about it?Yes, I do get writers block. I get frustrated but what I have to do is walk away and forget about it. Sometimes it lasts for daysL
            8. Who is your favorite author and why? That’s a tough question. I have so many in different genres. I do love Sandra Hill. Her Viking stories are so hot and she adds humor to her romances.
            9. How did you deal with rejection letters?I accepted them. It was a disappointment but I kept going. All it takes is one editor to see something in your work.
            10.What tools do you feel are must-haves for writers? I need my Thesaurus and spell check on my PC and definitely the internet.
Don’t forget to give us links to your website etc.

Melanie poked her head under the table piled high with Kaiser rolls, paper plates, and plastic utensils. She swept the candy into a neat pile. There. That should be the last of them. She rested on her heels and arched her back. Geez, I’m getting too old for this.

A low hiss sounded from above and she twisted at the waist. The first thing she saw was a pair of black shoes spit-polished to a shine. Dark, charcoal gray slacks covered a pair of long legs. Her gaze continued upward and a gun came into view. Great, a state trooper. It would be her luck to meet one in this undignified position. If the poor guy had been standing there the entire time the upper half of her body was underneath the table then he sure as hell didn’t get a view of her best side. Not that she had one.

Melanie recognized a flashlight and radio tucked in the utility belt hugging his lean waist. Other unfamiliar items were strapped to it too. The belt looked heavy enough to weigh a pound or more. How in the world did his pants stay in place if he had to hit the ground at a run? Her cheeks warmed. Of all the things that could’ve popped into her head, why did she always think of the most inane?

She purposely avoided looking at the impressive bulge peeking between his fingers. Oh, and what a bulge it was. Stop it, Mel. You’re here to work and get your mind off your problems.

She tilted her head. Her heart skipped a beat. The man was gorgeous. Square jaw, firm lips, hawk-like nose, and forest green eyes framed by ridiculously long lashes mixed well with his short, black hair. A touch of gray at his temples sexed him up all the more. Powerful shoulders stretched the seams of a meticulously pressed light gray uniform shirt. The name tag pinned to the right of his broad chest read Horan. Her eyes rested on his face. Stone face. The noise she heard hadn’t come from this guy.

Embarrassed to be caught in such an awkward position, and by a state trooper no less, Melanie scrambled to her feet. She hurried to the sink and washed her hands. She did her best to act the professional employee, but the pulse hammering at the base of her throat threatened to cut off her air supply. Her lips trembled and the palms of her hands grew moist with sweat.

“W-what can I get you, officer?” Way to go, now you’re stuttering.

A dark brow arched, but he remained silent. She bit her bottom lip in consternation. Okay, not a talker. But how was she supposed to know what he wanted?

After a second or two had passed he said, “I’d like something hot.”

Melanie blinked and her breath hitched. She wouldn’t have minded being on the menu. He means food, you dolt. No way can you be considered hot. She tossed a dish towel over her shoulder and gestured toward the two crockpots on the table behind her. “Um, we have homemade chili and pulled pork barbecue, plus hoagies made to order.” Her voice rose to a nervous pitch. Her first impulse was to run, but she stood there and waited for him to decide.

She shuffled her feet. Men in uniform always made her pulse leap. A leaping pulse she could deal with, but the throbbing between her legs threw her for a loop. As far as she was concerned that pulse just didn’t…pulse anymore

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