Birth of a Book

Where do authors get ideas for their books and stories?

They come from many places; a song, something you see, an article in a newspaper or magazine, or even a snippet of family history.

For example, the song by Sting, Desert Rose, was the inspiration for my paranormal romance, Sons of Earth and Wind, Book V; Tears of the Desert Rose.

I had started the story and then put it aside to work on another book. Then a car commercial came out with Sting singing Desert Rose. After that, it seemed that everywhere I went, I heard the song. What could I do? I finished writing the book and its now available at amberquill.com, amazon.com, and other online stores.

Hawk Adams in Tears of the Hawk, Book I in the series first appeared as a minor character in A Breath of Heather, which turned out to be the second book in that series.

When Heather escaped some gang-bangers by rushing up to the house of one of her students, it was Hawk—a visitor there—who opened the door.

Here’s that excerpt:
Another block passed before she heard the menacing rumble behind her again. A quick look over her shoulder at the car set her pulse roaring in her ears.

Ahead of her, was a white house trimmed in green. It seemed familiar. As she drew closer, she saw a white picket fence enclosed flower-filled gardens. Two geese roamed across the lush lawn. It looked like the pictures Brianna had drawn of her Aunt Karen’s house.

A black Jeep Cherokee waited in the driveway. She hoped it was Quinn’s car, but no matter, she’d try for help there.

The menacing rumble was closer, nearly beside her, and she fought against panic. “Oh, God! Oh, God!” she whimpered. Tears of fear slid down her face. Her lungs were on fire, but she had to keep going.

She opened the gate and raced up the walk. The geese rushed toward her, their wings spread, hissing. It was worth the risk of a few pecks to gain safety.

As she reached the door, it flew open and a man she’d never seen before pulled her inside. The door closed behind her and a deadbolt slid shut.

Before she could scream, a childish voice said, “Teacher, why are you here?” Brianna bounced out of a doorway, an apron covering the front of her blouse and jeans. “Did you come to the meeting with my daddy and Uncle Hawk and Uncle Dan?”

She stopped abruptly. Her eyes widened. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Your knees are skinned and bleeding, and you’ve been crying.”

A lovely woman with auburn hair took Heather’s hand. “I’m Brianna’s Aunt Karen.” She peered at Heather’s face, and then examined her palms. “You’re pale and your hands are bleeding. What happened?”

“Some men...” Heather’s throat closed. She couldn’t speak.

Karen turned to the tall, stern man who stood to one side of the window, gazing out. “Hawk, what do you see?”

“Trouble.”

“How did you know?”

“Felt it. Saw her face.” His steely gaze shifted to Heather, and she sensed the leashed potency in him, the same power she’d felt in Quinn.

“Blue low-rider?” Hawk asked.

She nodded, her mouth too dry to speak.

“Followed you? Tried to get you into the car?”

“Yes,” she said in a choked voice.

“Who the hell tried to force you into their car?” Quinn had entered silently and now faced her.

“The Vipers.” Her words came out in a whisper.

His dark gaze moved from her hands to her bloody knees. “You fought the bastards.”

Heather trembled at the grimness in his expression. It made her realize even more what could’ve happened. She swallowed to clear her throat. “I kicked and scratched.”

“Damn good thing.” His warm hand settled on her shoulder.

Hawk turned from the window. “Where are Mike and Patty?”

---

This was my first introduction to Hawk Adams, but he soon began to grow more important in the story.

Yes, I know I created the character, but he’s one of those story people who take on a strong personality.

In fact, I remember the day I was driving home from someplace, thinking about him in the story I was writing and literally said, “Okay, I’ll give you a book of your own.”