Welcome back, MaryLu. How did you come up with the idea for this story?
I was daydreaming, praying, thinking about my favorite city,
—about the injustice of slavery
and what a wide gulf there was between the slaves and the wealthy landowners
and the idea just popped into my head: what would happen if a runaway slave and
the son of a plantation owner fell madly in love? And what if the slave didn’t
appear black and the young man didn’t know who she was? Well, you can see how
that idea just shot fireworks through my brain! Charleston, South Carolina
If you were planning a party with Christian authors of contemporary fiction, what six people would you invite and why?
Ronie Kendig – because her books make me swoon and sit on the edge of my seat at the same time (which can be quite dangerous)
Camy Tang – she’s a dear friend and a blast to hang out with
Karen Kingsbury – I want to know her secret to success
Ted Dekker – I want to know if he’s as weird and spooky as his books
Terri Blackstock – she frightens me, but in a good way!
Joel Rosenberg – must pick his brain about what’s going on in the
Now let’s do that for a party for Christian authors of historical fiction, what six people would you invite and why?
Julie Lessman – because we must have been twins separated at birth!
Eakes – she’s the smartest lady I know and super interesting to talk to
Louise M. Gouge – a dear friend whose writing is so eloquent, it puts mine to shame
Julie Klassen – I must know her secret to winning all those Christy awards!
Mary Connealy – she makes me laugh!
Wanda Brunstetter – she’s the dearest, sweetest, most Godly author I know.
Many times, people (and other authors) think you have it made with so many books published. What is your most difficult problem with writing at this time in your career?
Pressure. Lots of pressure. When you’re unpublished, your only goal is to please one publisher enough to catch their attention and possibly get a contract. When you’ve got multiple books out there, there is a certain expectation from readers, reviewers, and publishers that each book is at least as good as the last, if not better! The last thing we authors want to do is disappointed our readers! And we definitely don’t want to disappoint our publishers with low sales numbers or we may never see another book contract again. Talk about stress! Be careful what you wish for, right?
Tell us about the featured book.
Can I just insert the video trailer here. It’s so awesome and describes the book perfectly!
Please give us the first page of the book.
If Althea got caught, Sir Walter would whip her to death. It was why her heart hammered in her chest and her breath seized in her throat. It was why she stood at the top of the stairway unable to move. Darkness coated the main corridors of the house like molasses, so thick it nearly forced her backward down the long hall to her chamber. Where she belonged. Where she was usually locked behind a bolted door. But not tonight.
Not ever again.
Taking a deep breath, she pressed her valise against her chest with one hand, gripped the banister with the other, and began her descent. She slid her boots over marble, feeling for the edge of each tread, careful to not jangle the chains around her ankles. Careful to not even breathe too loudly lest she awaken anyone and her only chance to escape—the chance she’d planned for years—would dissipate like her childhood had the day she’d arrived on this plantation.
Starting down again, she rounded the curved stairway. Firelight coming from the parlor licked the foyer tile, evidence that the ravenous monster slept within. Sir Walter Miles. Althea had amused him with rum and sweet smiles until he toppled like a felled tree onto the sofa.
She eased down the rest of the stairs, then halted before the open parlor door, bracing herself to hear his voice—his insolent, mad voice, beckoning her. Or worse doling out some cruel punishment for being out of her room at night.
But instead, all she heard were his snores, deep and blubbering as they always were when he was besotted. The smell of rum and smoke bit her nose. Perspiration spilled down her back. Slipping past the parlor, she clipped the ring of keys from her belt—the ones she’d used to open her chamber door—and set them on the side table. She only wished they’d held the key to unlock her shackles as well. A tall shadow on her left gave her a start. Pressing a palm over her heart, she brushed past the grandfather clock, its tick-tock tick-tock hurrying her along, reminding her she hadn’t much time to escape. Thunder rumbled in the distance. She stopped at the front door. Normally, there would be a guard on the other side as there was at each exit of the house. But tonight, Althea had overheard Sir Walter order the man to accompany the overseer into
Bridgetown for an early
morning slave auction. He’d already been well into his cups by then and had
failed to post another servant there.
Or at least she hoped he had forgotten.
I can hardly wait to start reading my copy. How can readers find you on the Internet?
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/MaryLuTyndallPinterest: http://pinterest.com/mltyndall/
Thank you, MaryLu, for this peek into your life and your new book.
Readers, here are links to the book. By using one when you order, you help support this blog.
Veil of Pearls - paperback
Veil of Pearls - Kindle
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