Convinced she was born to be an artist, Brenda never took her love of writing seriously…until sometime after college, after marrying a man doing a stint in the army, and after the birth of her son, she found more satisfaction filling a blank page with words than an empty canvas with color.
Brenda and her husband are gypsies at heart having lived in six states and two countries. Currently, they split their time between the prairie in Northern Arizona and the RV life. At home or in the RV, she spends most of her time writing stories of discovery and love entangled with suspense.
My stories are character driven. Many of the characters who populate my novels are inspired by the people who populate my life, past and present. More often than not, a trait, an event, or something as simple as a comment from someone I know will be the springboard for a story.
I’ve always loved to make up stories and write. If how I fared in school was any indication, I was meant to be a writer. But for reasons I can’t remember, I wanted to be an artist. My painting talents were decent, and I received accolades in art classes, too. As an adult, I finally came to enjoy writing more after taking a creative writing course.
I didn’t choose to write romance. Romance chose me. My goal was to write stories of human relationships. What I found was the strongest and most complicated of all is the relationship of love. Choose any genre and a story of romance can be woven into the novel.
Over the years, my stories have progressed from being closely derived from my own life to total fiction. But always there are facets of my own personality that leak into my writing. It could be as simple as a character having my love of flavored coffee to their heritage being part Native American. I always use settings where I have lived or enjoyed lengthy visits.
A Legacy of Love and Murder is set in Austria. I’ve spent time in Austria and have a very good Austrian friend who lives in the area I use in the book. This is the third book in the series and the second book to deal with searching out ancestral connections. Lacy Dahl, from book one, is traveling with her daughter, August. Inheriting an Austrian Castle is an Alpine fairytale for August, until someone begins killing the heirs.
A Legacy of Love and Murder
In Austria to meet her great-grandfather and explore his castle estate filled with priceless art, August
Myer arrives to find he’s died suspiciously. As one of the heirs, her life is in danger, turning this fairytale Alpine adventure into a nightmare of unexplained accidents, neo-Nazi threats, and murder.
Inspector Tobias Wolf splits his time between his profession and fighting the spread of neo-Nazism. But when the beautiful, intriguing American crosses his path during a murder investigation, ensuring her safety challenges his priorities…and his heart.
When August learns the handsome inspector’s involvement with a major female Nazi is more than he’s admitted, and the death of her great-grandfather is somehow connected, she takes the investigation into her own hands. The outcome could be the death of both of them.
EXCERPT
Unreasonable irritation set his jaw tight, and he shot his partner a scowl. “She’s lying.”
“She’s convincing.” True to form, Albert spoke his mind. He’d miss him when he retired.
He let his ire go with the thought. “You don’t know her well enough.” They’d reached the landing and the door into the Great Hall.
“How well do you know Eike, Tobias?”
“I know her enough to know she’s not to be trusted. To know her aspirations—”
“I trust your gut.” His partner laid a hand on his shoulder. “It felt practiced…you’re right.” Albert opened the Great Hall door. “Let’s see if we can get the nephew to tell us something more.”
Tobias led the way, glanced along the table and into the shadows at each end, then made his way around and into the main room. He jerked to a halt. “Who the hell?” He trotted to a prone figure, face down in the middle of the hall.
Albert, huffing, drew up beside him as he squatted to get a closer look.
“It’s Bauer.” Tobias put fingertips to Bauer’s neck, but the pulse wasn’t there. His hand grazed a red silk scarf. The scarf, a faint scent, and confusion washed over him. August. She’d worn a red scarf the first time he’d seen her.
“He’s dead?”
“Very.”
CONNECT With BRENDA
Visit Brenda at www.brendawhiteside.com.
Or on FaceBook: www.facebook.com/BrendaWhitesideAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/brendawhitesid2
She blogs on the 9th and 24th of every month at http://rosesofprose.blogspot.com
She blogs about life’s latest adventure on her personal blog http://brendawhiteside.blogspot.com/
Amazon Author Page: amzn.to/1THrngg
Goodreads Author Page: bit.ly/1U1lDxo
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