With
Canada Day just past, and the 4'th of July coming up, July is certainly a
festive month, even if it's just a few close friends. Today we are lucky enough
to have author Carla Rehse with us. Welcome, Carla.
SC: Tell me a little bit about your main character of this book.
CR: Thank you for inviting me to your blog!
The Accidental Gatekeeper starts with Everly Popa at a crossroads in life. Everly’s marriage is failing, as well as her relationship with her adult daughter. With everything that’s she built for the last 27 years crumbling around her, Everly returns to her hometown. A place that she left in anger and has never really resolved the bitter disappointment of her youth.
At 45, Everly is trying to be honest about herself, but it doesn’t come naturally. She’s spent too many years running from her problems. She’s a natural leader but tends to distrust her decisions.
Like so many people in their mid-40s, Everly is re-evaluating her life and goals. The person she is now isn’t the person she expected to be when she was 18 and dreaming of her future.
SC: She's got that right. Do you believe in the paranormal and if so, do you have an experience you can share?
CR: I do believe in the paranormal. I think there are many things that science doesn’t understand. Especially about death and what happens next.
SC:. What titles are you working on now that you can tell us about?
CR: I’m working on my sequel, The Accidental Archivist. Everly continues to find herself surrounded in mischief as she works on repairing her relationship with her daughter, as well as figuring out a place for herself in her hometown.
Thanks so much for dropping in. Let's take a look at your novel now.
Excerpt CHAPTER ONE
When all the good choices have disappeared faster than kids at chore time
If eighteen was the age of exciting self-discovery, then forty-five was the weary age of having zero shits left to give.What did it matter if my husband of twenty years was rotting in federal jail? And that our chiropractic clinic had gone belly up, leaving me jobless? Or that my friends had turned from “we’ll help hide a body” to “we’ve got your back until the reporters hit our lawn?” I also didn’t care that the DEA had frozen our joint bank accounts and seized our assets. I never liked that house anyway.
Homeless. Jobless. Friendless.
Add in a pickup truck, beer, and an old dog and it would be the most pathetic country song played on the tiniest fiddle ever. I gritted my teeth as the wipers shrieked across the windshield. Nothing like driving through a late-October downpour to add to your misery, and the constantly patched roads in this part of Central Texas didn’t handle rain well.
My phone rang with its cheerful tone that I kept forgetting to change. Sadie’s name lit up on the display, and I almost knocked it off the dashboard holder while hitting the speaker button.
“Sadie? Is everything okay? How’s Laney?” I really hoped the trembling in my voice wasn’t audible. My daughter hadn’t spoken to me in two months, refusing to answer my calls or respond to my texts. Her girlfriend had even gone so far as to block me on her social media.
“Mom? Where are you? God, this connection sucks.” Her voice had a recognizable anxious edge to it. I wanted to ask if she was taking her meds, but at twenty-one Sadie hated coddling. “Someone needs to talk to you.”
“What?” I eased onto the shoulder of the road, then placed the truck into park. “Who?”
“Mrs. Collins? Uh, Everly Collins? This is Sam Duncan, your husband’s attorney? We really must discuss your husband’s case.”
I glanced at the clock on my dash: 10:33 p.m. Duncan was raking in some serious OT.
“What the hell are you doing with my daughter?”
“Mrs. Collins?” He lowered his voice. “I know you’ve been advised not to speak with me. But you really need to before certain other people do. We can meet anywhere you want.”
“Listen to me, you scum licker. Tell my husband and his thug buddies to leave my kid out of their mess. I’m not afraid of their flaccid threats and won’t be intimidated.” I slapped at the phone to turn it off, sending it careening to the passenger floorboard, out of reach and therefore away from temptation.
I didn’t have the money to replace the stupid thing, but the desire to take out my frustration on the helpless and innocent electronic device was strong.
Part of me wanted to turn the vehicle around, race to Sadie’s apartment in Austin, and kick the crap out of that attorney. But I knew the truth. Sadie had taken her dad’s side and was angry I’d snitched on him. She would do whatever she could to get him out of trouble. What was a little money laundering for drug dealers, after all? She might have my dark hair and eyes, but unfortunately, she inherited her father’s defective moral compass.
A lesson for all the kiddies: choose the sperm donor for your progeny well.
Thanks for hosting my book!
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