Sunday, February 24, 2013


I'm a wife. I'm a mommy to two of the cutest kids on the planet (and not biased at all, nooooooo), who I home school. I'm a writer, mostly of historicals. I'm an editor for my husband's publishing company. I helped found a review organization. I've now worked with three different publishers.

And for a while there, I had no idea where I was going.

I remember standing in our church basement, leaning against a table. My kids were playing in the nursery just down the hall, the lights were off behind me, on in front of me. We were getting ready for a Bible study, and at the moment, it was just me and my husband and my parents there. The subject--whether or not I would attend the ACFW conference coming up in a few short months. 

I'd gone the year before, pitched a contemporary. I'd felt good about it at the time, but no leads had panned out. So in the meantime, I'd launched A Stray Drop of Blood, had done a tour for that, and was hard at work on Jewel of Persia. Both of these biblicals were for WhiteFire Publishing, my husband's small press. We were launching other authors after JoP came out, which meant I was now an acquisitions editor as well as an author.

But I'd always been an author with big dreams. I wanted fame, I wanted big advances, I wanted to walk past people reading my books on the beach, in the airports, in waiting rooms. But more and more over the last few weeks, I heard the Lord asking me, "And what if I want you right here?"

So that afternoon in the summer-warm basement of my church, I leaned against a folding table and said, "You know, I don't think I'm going this year. I don't see the point. I've spent the last six months working on a book I'm not pitching, because it's for WhiteFire. I've already pitched everything else I have ready, and no one wanted any of it. I don't know what I'd do. I don't know where I am. But I can't shake the feeling that next year I will know. That right now, I should just focus on WhiteFire and trust that this time is a time for rest."

That was probably the clearest, and most right-on advice I've ever received from the Lord...well, that I understood was completely of Him. ;-) For the rest of that year, I focused on building WhiteFire, on promoting my biblicals. Of course, I still checked in on other projects with other editors, but I was okay where I was. I knew that it was exactly where the Lord wanted me.

But it was just after the new year, in 2011, when I got a rather out-of-the-blue email from the editor at Summerside Press. It said something along the lines of "We have an opening in December, and I think Love Finds You in Annapolis would be a perfect fit--how fast can you get it to me?"

Now, Annapolis was barely more than halfway finished at that point, so focused had I been on my other projects. But being the over-achiever I am, I said, "Give me two weeks," and proceeded to write 25K in the next 8 days. In March, I got the good news that it had been accepted--my first major deal! I knew, knew with every fiber of my being that it was news that wouldn't have come had I not been obedient.

Because it was news that would have meant something completely different a year earlier. When I received it at that point, I had finally found peace with small beginnings, with blooming wherever He planted me. I had found freedom in writing the stories of my heart. I had found joy in my right-now, in my right-here.

And oh, how I saw the Lord's timing had been perfect! Over the next six months, sales boomed on my biblical titles with WhiteFire. Annapolis released in December, and while it certainly didn't top any charts, it sold well. Well enough that Harvest House didn't mind taking a risk on me and signing me for a 3-book deal, the Culper Ring Series. I'd nearly given up on this idea that follows America's first spy ring through the Revolution and then explores the what-ifs of their continuation through the next century, but I was so, so blessed to find an editor that loved it every bit as much as me. I love that as I dug into the history, I found that the story wasn't just cloaks and daggers, it was ordinary people like you and me who made a difference by getting up each day and looking for ways to change their world. What life-lessons and opportunities would I have missed had I not pitched the idea to my editor on a God-inspired whim?

And then, before the first book, Ring of Secrets, even released, they offered me another 3-book deal for Let Me Count the Ways, a series following the life of Elizabeth Barrett Browning and a secondary character. That totally floored me!

So here I sit, feeling the faithful promises of the Lord in a way I'd begun to think I never would. I can look at WhiteFire's growth and know that it is possible because I obeyed. I can see that my biblicals have sold as many copies as my big press book and know that, yes, the Lord's hand was there when He told me to be still and wait, to write those stories He put on my heart. And I can pick up my beautiful copy of my brand-new Ring of Secrets and smile, because I now have another wonderful publishing home that has put their full faith behind me.

Part of me still wants to be a bestseller, to be an award-winner. But at this point, my lesson has been learned. I don't need accolade or hefty checks or name recognition. I only need that peaceful knowledge that I am where He wants me. That I am who He wants me to be. And that my stories are His stories.

The Ring of Secrets book trailer!
This baby is pretty cool, gotta say. Wonderful British voice-over that they found!

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Wednesday, February 20, 2013

DARKEST HOUR By Nike Chillemi, Showcase/Interview

Today's guest is a wonderful writer and dear friend. If you love a cosy, but gritty murder mystery (like I do) but from a Christian point of view, then you've got to get hold of Nike's books. Here is her latest.

Darkest Hour: (Murder Mystery w/Romance, late-1940s) 

---a widow is framed by powerful people/the medical examiners knows she didn't pull the trigger
---Sweet romance, warm intimacy, sophisticated themes presented tastefully

A petite widow, secretary and sole support of her son and grandparents, is framed for the murder of her boss. Wealthy village residents conspire with the DA to indicte her and stop further investigation. The medical examiner thinks the shooter was a tall individual and when his report is shoved aside, starts snooping trying to clear her and in the process falls in love with her.

Lucinda Walsh lost her husband and parents at sea. When she discovers the body of her boss, his A-List society finacee, backed up by her powerful family and a corrupt DA, acuses Lucinda of murder.  She struggles on shielding her five-year-old son, her feisty grandfather and arthritic grandmother from the ugliness of her situation. She mistrusts the dapper ME, thinking he's a ladies' man, but soon realizes he may be the only one in her corner.

Hank Jansen, the county ME who's had his share of pain and loss, doesn't know if this little widow was in on the murder, but he knows by the trajectory of the bullet she's too short to have pulled the trigger. His professional opinion ignored, he begins his own investigation and at least one cop accuses him of an ethics violation. He certainly can't deny he's fallen head over heals for the accused, and also is crazy about her son. A huge problem is there's a leak inside the investigation and the murderer is always one step ahead of them.

1. Is there anything that happened in the writing of this novel that surprised you?

Nike: I thought my heroine Lucinda Byrne had two sweet grandparents who would stay in the background and just...well look sweet. However, Nellie and Daniel Walsh took me by surprise. I hadn't planned on Mrs. Walsh having crippling arthritis and on that illness becoming a subtheme in the novel. So, I had to research how severe arthritis was treated in the 1940s. As his wife's role in the novel grew and blossomed, Mr. Walsh also made himself known as an elderly gentleman of honor and dignity with quite a backbone. Then I began to depict them engaging each other as a married couple. They weren't content to remain in the background. They insisted on coming to life.

2. When we first meet Hank Williams it would never occur to us he'd take any personal risks to help a young woman he hardly knew. How did you create this character?

Nike: That's right. Hank wouldn't be seen as a man to go out on a limb for anyone. It's not that he's cowardly. He's got a backbone. It's just that he's been so hurt in the past he doesn't extend himself for other people. He's as surprised as anyone when he decides to help Lucinda Byrne. Perhaps it's because his professional opinion has been ignored, and the one thing he's got left is his career. Then he begins to see her as someone who's being unjustly hurt. He can certainly identify with that.


From Chapter One

Lucinda Byrne backed further away from the dead body of her boss, the sides of his suit jacket wide open. Blood oozed from a hole in the center of his chest and spread over the front of his white dress shirt and yellow tie. Dark, angry red... sticky...
A baby-faced police officer snapped photographs of the body where it lay in the gravel parking lot.
Even at this hour, the day threatened to be a hot one, and the smell the body threw off intensified by the minute. She hugged herself, but couldn't stop the trembling, then took another step back. "Someone said the medical examiner was on his way," she mumbled to nobody in particular.
A burgundy Chevrolet sport coupe pulled into the lot. A stylish man with wavy brown hair and a tinge of gray at the temples got out. He walked toward the detective in charge and they talked.
The village detective, with a riot of salt and pepper hair beneath a fedora, jutted his chin in her direction.
The newcomer turned his face toward her. She felt small under this Dapper Dan's scrutiny, but forced herself to stand pat and return his gaze.
He tugged at the razor like crease in his pants, looked down, and squatted beside Dr. McCloud's body, but didn't touch it. There was obviously no need to feel for a pulse.
The detective turned on his heel and approached her. "I'm Detective Ian Daltry, ma'am. I understand you found the body." He took a small notebook and a fountain pen from his jacket pocket.
"Yes, I... I did." She started to sniffle and fought it, not wanting to fall apart while being questioned.
"And Dr. McCloud was your boss?"
"Both you and Dr. McCloud came into work early this morning?"
"I knew he wanted to clear up some paper work, so I came in as well." She clasped her hands together, squeezing the fingers of one hand into the back of the other.
"Really?" His eyes narrowed.
"Yes, Detective, really. Early is fine with me, so is late. I really need my job."
He tapped his notebook with his pen. "When you arrived this morning, did you notice a car coming into the parking lot or pulling out?"
"No, I wasn't looking for that." She'd had her head down as she rushed for the front door, wondering what type of mood the self-important doctor would be in. She'd keep that tidbit to herself.
The detective jotted a note. "When you got out of your car, what did you see?"
"I was walking toward the main entrance and there he was -- on the ground. Blood spreading all over his shirt." She swiped at a tear seeping from the corner of her eye.
The detective wrote in the notebook. "After you got out of your car, did you see anyone walking in or out of the hospital?"
"No one." She looked toward the hospital to prevent the detective from seeing her lower lip trembling. A lock of shoulder-length brown hair fell into her face and she brushed it away.
He made another notation. "Nobody at all?"
"No. I'm sorry. I wish I could help you, but I didn't see anything." The relentless yammering of her thoughts had crushed her, worries that babysitting her young son might be too much for her elderly grandparents. She hadn't been paying attention to her surroundings.
"That's about all the questions I have at this time." He took her address and phone number. Stepped away from her, then turned back, and asked a couple more questions that made no sense to her.
She stood there staring at him as he returned to the body.
If only this morning would end. She rubbed her hands together in an attempt to quell a slight tremor.
A black coach resembling an ambulance drove into the lot. An older man in overalls pulled a collapsible gurney out of the back and raised its bed to hip level. Its chrome gleamed.
A night orderly and two nurses getting off the night shift stopped to watch.
The brown-haired man pointed to the gurney and his voice carried. "They finally allocated some funds my way. Makes transporting much easier. Oscar and I used to carry them on a stretcher. My back sure is grateful to the board of supervisors."
The detective laughed. "Don't you county guys have all the dough you want?"
"Who're you kidding?"
The gurney's wheels rumbled across the gravel parking lot. The older man pulled on the straps of his overalls."Hank, you ready to move the body?"
The stylish man nodded. "Let's do it." They lifted the body onto the gurney and the man in overalls covered Dr. McCloud with a white sheet. Blood seeped through and began spreading.
Lucinda gasped, took another step back, stumbled, but managed to keep her footing. She straightened her spine. She still had to go into that building and work a full day. She had a son to support.
The detective nodded toward the body. "By the size of the hole in his chest, I'd guess he was shot with a pistol, maybe at close range. I need to have the bullet as soon as you recover it."
"Then by all means, you'll be my guest at the autopsy."
"Gee, thanks." The detective shook his head.
The debonair man chuckled, turned, and approached Lucinda.
A tremor ran down her back. More questioning, and all she wanted to do was run and hide. She sniffled and wiped her nose with the side of her index finger.
He reached into his inside pocket and offered her a folded white handkerchief. "It's rough if you've never seen anything like this. I'm Hank Jansen, the medical examiner, by the way."
Lucinda's gaze followed the gurney to the black coach. "He was my boss."
"You work at the hospital for Dr. McCloud?"
"Yes. I... I'm his secretary... was, I mean. And Dr. Hinsey's too." She couldn't believe the doctor's life had ended this way.
Detective Daltry barked, "Hank, can I speak with you?"
"Excuse me." The medical examiner stepped away.
"Wait." Lucinda quickly refolded the handkerchief and handed it back to him. She didn't know this man. Wouldn't begin to know how to return the white cotton cloth. "Don't forget this."
"Take it with you. The day's not over. Things could still get rough." He smiled.
"No, I can't take your hankie."
"Listen, I'll pick it up the next time I'm at the hospital. You say you work for Dr. Hinsey?"
"Hank," the detective called, impatience sharp in his tone.
"Yes, Dr. Hinsey. She's the head of the maternity ward. I'll launder it and have it ready for you."
The medical examiner nodded and smiled. "It's a date. I mean, I'll stop by and pick it up." He turned and trotted toward the detective.
Lucinda slipped the handkerchief into her purse. She headed for the main entrance of the hospital, bent and picked up a fountain pen in the gravel lot.
She pivoted and advanced toward the two men.
The detective made a chopping gesture with his hand and raised his voice. "I'm not fooling, Hank. Don't go putting another notch in your belt. She's a witness."
"Can't a fellow do a simple act of kindness?"
"I'm warning you, stay away from her." The detective spun around and nearly collided with Lucinda.
Heat rushed to her face, and she couldn't meet either man's gaze. If the ground would only open and swallow her. She held the pen out to Detective Daltry. "Uh... I… I'm sorry. I think you dropped this."

Purchase Links:


Barnes and Noble/Nook.

Author Bio:

Like so many writers, Nike Chillemi started writing at a very young age. She still has the Crayola, fully illustrated book she penned (penciled might be more accurate) as a little girl about her then off-the-chart love of horses. Today, you might call her a crime fictionista. Her passion is crime fiction. She likes her bad guys really bad and her good guys smarter and better.

She is the founding board member of the Grace Awards and is its Chairman, a reader's choice awards for excellence in Christian fiction. She writes book reviews for The Christian Pulse online magazine. She was an Inspy Awards 2010 judge in the Suspense/Thriller/Mystery category and a judge in the 2011 and 2012 Carol Awards in the suspense, mystery, and romantic suspense categories. BURNING HEARTS, the first book in the crime wave that is sweeping the south shore of Long Island in The Sanctuary Point series, finaled in the Grace Awards 2011 in the Romance/Historical Romance category. GOODBYE NOEL, the second book in the series released in December, 2011 won the Grace Award 2011 in the Mystery/Romantic Suspense/Thriller category. PERILOUS SHADOWS, third in the series released July, 2012, and DARKEST HOUR, the fourth in the series released in February, 2013.  She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) and the Edgy Christian Fiction Lovers (Ning).