Interview with Author Mary Jean Kelso

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Why did you start fiction writing and what genre(s) do you like to write?

In writing factual material there is no leeway. Facts are facts. I
like to move around more using fiction writing skills to do so. Although
much research goes into my novels, Poetic License can come into play.
I tend to mostly write Western novels. But, like life, there is
Mystery, Suspense, and Romance in them as well.

Why this/these genre(s)? What attracts you to them?

I'm sure my fascination with the Old West comes from having historical
ancestry. My Grandparents on both sides were early day homesteaders. My 2nd Great Grandparents moved to Texas when the Austin Colonies were formed. My 2nd Great Grandfather was killed at the Alamo. My 2nd Great Grandmother and the rest of the family were in The Runaway Scrape when the boy who would be my Great Grandfather was seven. Some ten years later he became a Texas Ranger. I grew up listening to family stories from my dad who was a cowboy before becoming a Southern Pacific Railroad worker.

Generally speaking, what is the driving force behind your characters?

Desire. They have to desire something whether it is a person or a resolution to a
problem. 

Have any of your characters changed in dramatic way from what you imagined at the start during the writing process?

Oh yes! They sometimes make their own way and refuse to be guided by the
keyboard and its operator.

What do you find the most difficult in finishing a story and approximately how long does it take for you to write a story? It can take me anywhere from 3 months to 2 years to write a novel. One took
close to 5 years as I could only work on it in between children's books I was
publishing. For me, the end of the story usually comes to me first. Then, I go to the beginning and see how I get to The End. It might be a backward way to write but, I found out long ago to do whatever works for me. Listening to those who tell you that you can't do something a certain way only fosters Writers' Block, in my opinion. The hardest part, for me, is having enough time to write all there is to write about.

Are there other types of writing you do such as non-fiction, or short fiction?

I have been a photojournalist for many years. I've written magazine articles for
slick magazines and features for local newspapers. I write adult and young adult
novels. Recently, I began illustrating some of my children's picture books.

Has your writing affected you in any way and what would you recommend to someone wanting to start writing fiction?

Writing is beneficial for me in the sense that it keeps me busy and not bored.
I think it helps the writer to cope with everyday life. I would tell someone who wants to write to do it. It doesn't matter if you do it differently. Follow your own inner voice. Don't expect to get rich writing. Few do. It is good for your mind, body, and self-worth -- much more important than money.

Mary Jean 

Petite Rose

Available now! New April release.

With her fiancè thousands of miles away serving his country in Korea, Maggie Perot suddenly finds herself in the worst predicament possible. With nowhere to turn, and no money to support herself, what is she going to do?

Author Ann Marie Jameson was born in New Orleans, Louisiana and grew up in Monroe, Louisiana. While she has lived in various area of the state over the years, she now she calls Hammond, Louisiana her home. She has a BA from Northeast Louisiana University in Monroe, and a Master’s from the University of New Orleans. She is a retired special education teacher and is married with three sons, one stepson, and eight grandchildren.

Ann Marie became an avid reader at the young age of nine and began writing poems and short stories in high school. Her first work to be published was a poem she wrote as a teenager as a tribute to her father. The poem was featured in her local newspaper for Father’s Day. The first book Ann Marie had published was a children’s book which was released in 2003.

After taking several years off from writing to care for her elderly parents, Ann Marie returned to writing but this time as a novelist. Her first novel, titled A Bed of Roses, was released in 2016. Spurred on by fan support, Ann Marie continued writing what she later titled her “Willow Rose Series.” The second book, Belle Rose, was released in 2017, and now, Petite Rose completes the series.

What They Are Saying About Petite Rose

• Petite Rose is a captivating novel set in 1954 and modern day Natchitoches, Louisiana. The third book in a series, it stands on its own as a heart-stirring love story with a heart-wrenching family secret. An emotional and enjoyable read with engaging characters. —Lynette Vinet, Author of the Liberty Ladies Novels

• Author Ann Marie Jameson has found an interesting way to have her readers feel they’re part of the Petite Rose family as she transports characters and readers alike back and forth between background and current day until the two unite. An enjoyable page-turning journey. —Kathryn J. Martin, CDA, BA, MA, Author, Inspirational Speaker and Humorist “Miz Maudie”
  
• Family secrets, interrupted plans and surprise unveilings make Ann Marie Jameson’s Petite Rose a compelling read. Jameson’s cozy mystery, set in Louisiana’s Cajun country, alternates between past and present as recent discoveries lay the past bare
  
  Young Margaret Perot has fallen in love with Jack Bordelon and agreed to become his wife. History interrupts their plans when Jack is sent to Korea in 1954. The actions of the young couple form the basis for a mystery to be solved by their descendants in 2016. Through old correspondence and the testimony of elderly relatives, the children of Margaret and Jack work through the tangled past to solve a tragic puzzle. Can they find the answers before the witnesses pass on?
  
  Jameson brings a rich cast of characters into the story. As the third volume of her series set around the Perot and Bordelon families, Petite Rose brings the characters full circle, although the story stands alone quite nicely.
  
  Explore the steamy intrigue of south Louisiana with Ann Marie Jameson. You may decide to stay awhile in the welcoming neighborhood. —Mary Beth Magee, Award-winning author, speaker, workshop leader Cozy Christian fiction with a Southern accent and author of The (LOL)4 Mysteries, Devotions from the Road of Life series, Cypress Point Confidences.

The Stowaway Bride

By L. A. Roberson
Historical Romance, 381 pages
Cover art by Trisha FitzGerald

Blub: By no fault of her own Ashton Perry is caught in a circle of venomous jealousy and revenge between two men. She can't believe that she escaped one of them only to end up in the arms of the other, Captain Jason Brandt. He inspired her dreams for love, but he isn't at all what she imagined.

From a small bay side village in England, to the streets of New York, The Stowaway Bride weaves an adventure of dangerous lies while two hearts voyage to become one.
Excerpt:
One
Since Ashton Perry had come to live at her uncle’s Wharf Side Inn, the five years had seemed more like ten. To keep the peace, she always rose before dawn to begin a list of chores that had grown considerably over the years. By the light of a single candle she went about her routine. Starting in the commons area, she gathered dishes and put them to soak; washed crude tables which were worn smooth with age; and she swept crumbs from the stone floor. In spite of these tasks, she had learned to enjoy the tranquility of the hour, while all others slept.

Today as the gray light of dawn summoned the morning, Ashton paused at the window to gaze at the fast approaching storm. In a matter of minutes, lightning flashed, thunder rumbled and rain began to pelt the vacant street. The raindrops on the window pane struck like pebbles. Weather like this made her ponder the circumstances of what had brought her and her young brother Dane to live in this dreary place. Once they had been carefree and happy. However, the loss of their parents had changed their lives forever.

“Those days are gone,” Ashton murmured and breathed a heavy sigh. She pushed memories aside. With the intention of resuming her work, she started to turn when a stranger appeared in the street on horseback. Ashton couldn’t help wondering why a man would travel on such a dreary morning. She eyed his tall figure as he brought the animal to a halt directly in front of the inn. The magnificent black stallion tossed its head high in protest as it reared.

Fascinated, Ashton’s senses sharpened as the stranger established immediate control. He dismounted with an air of nobility.

In the rain, he circled the horse, inspecting the animal’s legs. He picked up a stick and cleaned the muddied pebbles from the stallion’s hooves with care. When finished he straightened. He must have experienced the feeling of being watched because without warning he pivoted and looked directly at Ashton. Their eyes locked and she drew in a sharp breath as crimson flooded her features. Embarrassment filled her, since she’d been caught watching him. He gave her a smile that seemed to stop time.

The narrow pink scar above his jaw made Ashton wonder if he had taken part in the Trafalgar battle two months earlier. Many battle weary, seafaring men had drifted through this fishing village since the war.

With more surprise than Ashton had ever experienced, she realized the handsome man had started toward the entrance of the inn. Her chin dropped. Had he mistaken her for someone else or did he wish to meet her? Ashton couldn’t fathom his reason. Yet she continued to watch him.

Then a passer-by attracted his attention, causing him to pause and look the other way. As if he’d forgotten all about coming into the inn, he turned and crossed the road to greet the other gentlemen.

Ashton laid her hand across her heart in relief. She took a deep breath and recognized the internal warning of caution. But she had never before experienced the thrill of attraction from such a handsome man. She dared to study his striking figure for a moment longer.

One Step At A Time

By Ruth Reynolds

Historical Romance, 251 pages

Cover art by Richard Stroud

Emma leaves England to marry Frank the Australian she met in WW1 London arriving in Sydney to find things are not as expected.

Adjusting to country life, jealousy and tragedy, Emma finds help from an unexpected source, which brings unplanned complications into her life.

Having learned to take things one day at a time, a letter out of the blue changes everything around.

Excerpt:

An Opportunity

Emma had adjusted quite well to yet another change in her life by accepting the good with the bad, with the thought that surely there would be an improvement soon. In many ways she was very much on her own, as Frank dealt with the difficult situation by virtually ignoring it. Whenever she tried to engage him in conversation, he either became evasive, or was defensive about his inability to find work. Whether he was really trying, Emma had no way of knowing, for he refused to discuss it. Certainly he left the house most days ostensibly in search of work, but the fact that he always smelt of alcohol when he finally came home made her wonder how quickly he had given up on his search.

She tried to question Hannah about it, for it was his sister who would know some of the facts, working as she did at the only hotel in the area. Poor Hannah, torn between loyalty to her brother and her friendship with Emma, was not a lot of help. Her excuse for Frank was that as everyone from the area came eventually to the pub there was as good a chance as anywhere else for him to hear about any jobs that may come up. This may well have been true and as she knew virtually nothing about the district and its way of life, Emma had no recourse other than to accept it at face value.

She found it impossible sitting in the house alone, for with Hannah at work and Frank gone on his travels, there was always a painful awareness of the other presence in the house. Emma often wondered what the older woman did to pass the time, for she spent all day in her closed room. She ate virtually nothing during the day and only emerged to visit the privy, returning to her bedroom without a word spoken.

With so much time on her hands, Emma decided to explore the area outside the house. Realising that her city clothes were totally unsuitable for venturing into the bush, she found an old pair of Frank’s trousers, which she cut off to suit her shorter legs. She wore them with a long sleeved blouse tucked in at the waist, a length of rope to hold them up and the trouser legs tucked into thick socks. This, with stout boots and a broad-brimmed hat was her uniform for her almost daily trips of exploration.

There were many well-trodden paths leading into the bush, so armed with a stick (for out here her fear of snakes was justified) she set off wearing an old haversack she had found in one of the cupboards. In it was her book, either the one on botany or whatever she happened to be reading at the moment, a bottle of water and a rough sandwich of bread and cheese, wrapped in greaseproof paper.

If she intended to spend her time in a shady spot writing letters rather than reading, she packed a writing pad and her Waterman fountain pen. Neither Frank nor Hannah ever saw her in her “bush clothes,” as she thought of them, for by the time they came home she had changed into more acceptable gear. Whether the other inhabitant of the house knew about it she knew not and cared even less.

Never Say Goodbye

By Mary Jean Kelso
Historical Romance, 191 pages
Cover art by Richard Stroud

 Excerpt:
 “Now, there’s a problem here,” Cassie continued with her voice in a higher pitch. “Artifacts have begun missing. I feel terrible because it started happening right after I arrived. It has gotten serious. Lynne, I’ve been arrested!”

“Arrested?” Lynne gasped.

“I didn’t do it!” Cassie protested.

“I believe you, Cassie,” Lynne assured her.

“Well, the museum officials don’t! They think they caught me with the goods in my hands. I found some of the pieces, some arrowheads, on the floor. I was replacing them in their case when Security jumped out of the darkness at the museum. I know it looked bad—and no one would believe I wasn’t stealing them.”

“Are you in jail?” Lynne asked with shock.

“No. Not now. My attorney convinced the judge they didn’t have enough evidence to put me on trial—yet. So, he was able to get me home on my own recognizance. At least, until they see if they think they can make a case. I can’t leave town. I’m basically confined to the house what with my breathing problem and now this!”

“How can I help?”

“You’re so good at these sorts of things. You found Frank last summer,” Cassie stated. “I thought, well, I thought, maybe you could come down and help find out who the real thief is. Maybe you’ll have some idea how to get me out of this mess! Maybe you can do it before they decide to take me to court?”

Lynne thought for a moment before answering. She knew, if there was any way at all for her to help, she would have to. It was not in Lynne’s nature to let a friend, or someone close to a friend, down. And, although she wasn’t that connected to Cassie, she was Vicki’s friend.

“School’s basically out and I’ve been looking for a summer job,” Lynne answered, breaking her sentence off as she tried to calculate a way to rescue Cassie. “But, I’ve also thought about checking out the campus in Reno as well.”

Deep in concentration, Lynne rubbed the back of her neck. She pulled her fingers through her long blond hair from behind to relieve the tightness she felt where the strands stuck against her skin. How could she manage to go to Carson City and help Cassie when she knew she needed a job to supplement her school fund for the coming year?

“I don’t have much money, but I could pay your expenses and a small wage,” Cassie offered eagerly. “I can’t afford to hire a high-priced detective and the police are convinced I did it. I don’t think they’re even looking for anyone else. My attorney got me out of jail and no court date is set, yet. But, I fear we’ve only got a short time before they do come up with enough circumstantial evidence to at least try me. My attorney said they may even form a Grand Jury! Lynne, you know I’m not a felon.”

“I don’t believe that you would do it at all, Cassie! Vicki is my friend and so are you! You know I really wouldn’t want to take your money, Cassie. But, why didn’t you call me sooner, before it went this far?”

And Thou Shalt Love Thine Enemy

By Carol A. Hurt
Historical Romance, 408 pages
Cover art by Richard Stroud

"I offered you the only way out."

What kind of law is this…that's no choice!?!" Devon blanched; her voice weak as she stepped close to him, impulsively placing her hand on his arm.

"Marry me…"  Bryn whispered softly, keenly aware of her gentle touch, but then added coldly "Or go to jail…"

Excerpt:
Cautiously he skirted around the corner of the fiery building. Stopping abruptly, his eyes widened in utter surprise as he spied a young girl with a wild array of unruly red curls cascading down her back, leaping from the trellis. Shocked into silence, Bryn took a moment to admire her and gather his wits.

The girl, not realizing anyone was about, jumped from the last rail of the trellis. Hitting the ground, she fell slightly, caught herself with her hands, then stood and brushed off the debris on her clothes. Turning, she froze in her tracks. With a sharp intake of breath, her gaze glued to the man with his tattered Yankee uniform. Strands of dirty black hair and an unkempt beard covered most of his face. He remained motionless while staring at her with his gray eyes.
Standing rock still without catching her breath, the girl scrutinized him with the most amazing emerald green eyes Bryn had ever seen.

Bryn was puzzled at her presence. Stepping toward her without speaking, Bryn used no caution. As he found himself in close proximity of those haunting green orbs, he could see the pure venom in her eyes, eyes he would never forget. Bryn was enchanted with the sight of the beautiful creature frozen before him in the middle of this war-torn land. Sighing, he stepped closer to the girl whose sight had so bewitched him. Letting his guard completely down, he continued to move toward the green-eyed nymph.

"Wherever did you come from? What…" He started to speak in hushed tones as he edged even nearer to the girl, watching her as she reached into her pocket. Before he could react, the girl produced a small derringer. His gray eyes opened wide, in abject surprise. Bryn dove at the girl, knocking her body to the ground with a thud. The derringer went flying from her hand as he wrestled with her, pulling both her hands behind her back.

Her breathing ragged, Devon shrieked at her attacker. "You filthy Yankee, let me go!" Twisting herself to and fro, she struggled in vain.

"Hold still!" Bryn spoke through gritted teeth. Straddling the girl, he was able to stand up, pulling her into an upright position.

Weak from her struggles, Devon stood in front of him. "Just kill me and get it over with!" she hissed.

Bryn released her and spun her around to face him. "I ain't gonna kill you. What makes you think that?"

Devon glared at her offender. "You heathen Yankees killed my parents and burned my home…what's to stop you from killing me?"

"Hold on…" Bryn started. "I didn't…"

"You are a Yankee…just like the others." Her eyes glinted with the hatred she felt for this Yankee soldier.

A flaming wall of Devon's home suddenly crashed to the ground. The fire burned ferociously, as Bryn grabbed Devon about the waist and dragged her away from the searing flames.

Tears sprang to Devon's eyes as she helplessly watched the remains of her house crumble to the ground in flames and smoke.

In silence, Bryn gently pulled her to his horse. Sandy stood still while Bryn lifted Devon up into the saddle. The girl had quit fighting and just submitted to him. Spying the derringer in the grass, Bryn picked it up and shoved the small gun into his pants pocket.

Devon stared numbly at the devastation before her, oblivious to what the Yankee was doing to her.

Bryn mounted up behind her and taking the reins, he headed his steed away from the fire and destruction he had once again failed to stop.