After midnight, a mysterious stranger appears at the edge of the woods and the peaceful life fifteen-year-old Ellen Fisher has with her beloved stepfather Frank is turned upside down. Small town gossip, jealousy and murder strive to tear them apart in a tale of secrets and unrequited love.
The plot and characters for Slow Dancing just popped into my head and I couldn’t wait to get the images down in words. The young girl on the porch after dark, the sound of tree toads and crickets, the water lapping at the shore of the river, the ping of insects hitting the water, and then the knowledge that she was being watched, that feeling we all know where the hair on the back of our necks stands up straight.
When I put those first words down on paper, I had no idea where I was going with the story and was just as intrigued as readers say they are. Even the beauty shop is vivid in my mind, the smells of ammonia and rancid coffee, and the coffee shop across the street that serves the best pie in the world. Small town places where a certain type of person lives and you never really know them completely.