Janis: Hi all. I live in Western NY on a few acres outside a small village. My children are adults and have given me two wonderful grands. Hubby is a patient person who supports my spending hours at my computer. He is also quick to adapt to a plot storm in the middle of its creation. I love the color green, adore romantic movies and could not possible choose a favorite book, as I love them all. I’m not particularly fond of the horror genre, but I have read a few.
SMP: Please share your favorite holiday memory.
Janis: My husband was away in the service when my children were small. It was our first Christmas without their daddy. My young brother-in-law came over to help with the tree. It was Christmas Eve and the children were already in bed. He announced suddenly, “This is all wrong.” He started packing up all the gifts as I stood astonished watching him. “I’m taking everything over to my parents’ house. Families should be together,” he declared. I got into the spirit of it and we wrapped those babies up and took them to their grandparent’s house that very night. It was so much nicer to wake up to a family celebration. I still remember with a smile the rescue from a terrible night of loneliness on Christmas Eve.
SMP: How long have you been writing? Have you always wanted to write?
Janis: Always but seriously maybe six years. I don’t think one wants or not to write. If you are an author, you are compelled to act.
SMP: Do you write in a single genre, or more than one? What do you find most compelling about your genre(s)?
Janis: I write what I love to read. Regency Romance is one of my favorites. I enjoy Cozy Romantic Mysteries and Romantic Adventures.
SMP: Tell us a little about your writing journey.
Janis: I wrote without a plan until I joined a chapter of RWA. Invaluable information on submissions, on everything is gained from the gals at the chapter meetings.
SMP: Tell us about your process. Do you plot/make outlines for your WIPS, or are you a total pantser?
Janis: First I create a character and get acquainted with him/her. Then I plot my stories in my head on long car rides using my hubby (captive audience) as a sounding board. When I get the beginning, middle, and end settled, then I write by the seat of my pants filling in the rest. Sometimes the plot surprises me by taking strange and curious turns.
SMP: What has been your most significant inspiration on the road to publication?
Janis: It has to be when someone first read my story and said they enjoyed it. What a thrill that was!
SMP: What advice would you give an aspiring writer?
Janis: Write, read, write, read, and write. Join a group of like-minded people. Go on-line and study admission posts of various publishers.
SMP: Tell us a little about your current or upcoming release: your inspiration, main characters, setting, etc. What was the most difficult process? The easiest?
Janis: Writing is pure fun for me even as I dig into some aspect of research. The most difficult time I have is pulling myself out of the research and pointing my nose back to the task in hand. Writing a synopsis is an evil task. I’ve never heard anyone say they enjoyed condensing their stories to a few pages.
My Cozy Romantic Mystery is about a mysterious killer who upends a peaceful community where people normally live safely and well. The hero is Detective Kevin Fowler who is skittish of relationships and heroine, pretty Beverly Hampton, home town princesses who works for her father at the local newspaper. Together they look for clues to solve the murder of a local widow. In the process of learning about a killer, they also discover each other.
SMP: Any final thoughts you’d like your readers to know about you or your books?
Janis: I write Regency Romances @ MUSA PUBLISHING as Emma Lane and people are sometimes confused with my pen names. Real name: Emma Janis Lane. Emma if it’s a Regency, Janis if it’s a mystery.
Want to find Janis? Start here:
SMP: Janis, thanks for visiting with us today!
Buy Link: Amazon
A young woman competently filling a pair of gray slacks and a blue sweater was backing out of a bedroom with her hand still on the door. She was slightly built but of medium height with a thick mop of curly brown hair cut just at jaw line. A tiny waist and the snug slacks accented a firm, rounded bottom that strained and rippled the material as she walked backwards out of the room. He thought he had seen those hips someplace before, but he waited patiently for the intruder to turn around. Could she see him outlined against the light at the entrance to the kitchen? She finally did and gave a visible start and a small squeak of surprise when she saw him standing there.
“Miss Hampton,” he greeted in a quiet, noncommittal voice, nodding his head with raised eyebrows as he leaned against the door jam, arms crossed in front of him, waiting for her explanation. Her cheeks reddened slightly as she walked quickly toward him. He had never known such a rounded woman before. Everything about her made him think of succulent apples. She wasn’t fat. Just curvy round. He tried not to look down at her chest, a view he knew would instigate erotic thoughts and disturb his sleep later. He was acquainted with Beverly Louise Hampton, reporter and daughter of the owner of the local newspaper, and had been fighting a growing attraction for her. His defenses automatically clicked into place and a slight frown covered his craggy face.
“Hey, Detective,” she said warily by way of greeting. “I came in the back door from behind. I parked my car over on the next street because I knew the short cut through the yards. Used to ride my bike through here to get to school. Guessed you would have all the official vehicles out front. I said hello to the police out front earlier,” she added hopefully, winding down and giving him a slightly apprehensive look. He knew she knew she shouldn’t be here.
She clutched a notebook nervously but tilted her chin up slightly. Fowler guessed she was not sorry she had just intruded herself into a crime scene. Just as he knew she monitored the calls to the police.
“Just because your daddy owns the newspaper does not give you the right to contaminate a crime scene, Miss Hampton, and you are perfectly aware of this fact,” he said in a measured voice between clenched teeth. He strode past her and walked through the house.