Maegan
Beaumont is the author of Carved in
Darkness, the first book in the Sabrina Vaughn thriller series. When she
isn’t busy fulfilling her duties as Domestic Goddess for her high school
sweetheart turned husband and their four children, she’s locked in her office
with her computer, her coffee pot and her Rhodesian Ridgeback. Learn more about
Maegan at her website. – AP
As a writer, inspiration
comes to me every day. Sometimes it’s just a spark—a sparse glimmer of a story
that I think I might want to write someday. These are the ones that, if they
stick around for a day or two, I write down and tuck away for later.
Other times it’s a lightning
strike. An idea that hits me so hard and so fast that I can’t shake it. It
hounds me. It’s all I can think about. It wakes me up at night. It won’t be
quiet. Not until I write every last word that keeps rattling around in my
brain.
Carved in Darkness was one of those stories.
How I came to write Carved in Darkness begins with what
I’ve heard described as one of those the
smell of the rain on the road at dawn
moments… it wasn’t born from something I read or over-heard in the express lane
at the grocery store. It was an actual experience I had—as fleeting as it
was—that brought this story. One moment I was sitting at a red light, waiting
for my turn to make a left, and the next I was hooked into what has probably
been one of the most terrifying and rewarding experiences of my entire life.
I looked out the passenger window.
In the lane next to me was a rattle trap of a station wagon, I mean, if this
thing was street-legal, I’ll eat my hat—that’s how bad it was. But it wasn’t
the condition of the car that caught my attention.
It was the girl driving it.
She was young—a few years
younger than I was at the time—and beautiful. Probably the most beautiful girl
I’d ever seen in my life. Long, dark red hair. A profile I could only describe
as perfect… and then she looked at me with the bluest eyes I’d ever seen in my
life. It was for only a second or two but it was enough. In that face and those
eyes, I saw a lifetime of sadness and fear. In the seat behind her were two
young kids, a boy and a girl. They resembled her so strongly I knew instantly
they were related somehow and they looked just as sad and scared as she did.
Then, the light turned and
she puttered off… the last thing I saw of her was the Texas license plate stuck
to the back of her car. A horn honked behind me, reminding me that I had the
arrow, and I took off—bound for wherever I was going.
I began to wonder who she
was. Where was she was going? What had happened to make her so sad… and then I
began to do what I always do. I built her story in my head, and it became
obvious almost instantly that I wouldn’t be able to shake this one loose. That
it wouldn’t be quiet until I wrote it down.
So, I did.
I wrote about a dozen
versions of Carved in Darkness. I scribbled notes on
napkins. I wrote snippets of dialogue on my lunch break. I stayed up until all
hours of the night, writing a pretend life for a girl I saw for about thirty
seconds and I’d never even spoken a word to. I had no idea who she really was,
but I knew one thing: I don’t do milquetoast. By that I mean, I don’t (can’t,
refuse to… take your pick.) write wishy-washy, hand-wringing damsels in
distress with heaving bosoms and a perpetual case of the vapors who cry and
wait for big strong men to save them. Yes, my girl (I named her Sabrina) was in
trouble—big trouble—but my damsel was in the business of causing distress, not being saved from it, and if someone was going
to tie her to the railroad tracks, you best bet she would have a switchblade
tucked into her boot for just such an occasion.
Sabrina is tough. Probably too tough for her own good. She’s a cop,
so it comes with the territory, but it’s about more than that. It’s about the
things that happened to her as a young woman. Things she can’t let go of.
Things that drastically altered the person she was supposed to be. Changed her.
Broke her and re-built her. She can’t let her guard down, not for anyone. Not
her brother and sister. Not her best friend. Not her partner. Not even the
grandmother who raised her. They all love her so much that they’re willing to
wait patiently for the day when she’ll let them in and refuse to listen when
she tells them that that day is never gonna come.
Enter Michael O’Shea, a
person from the past Sabrina had hoped was long since buried. He reminds her of
who she really is and the hell she endured. He tells her that while she might
have escaped the nightmare she’d been dragged into as a young woman, there are
others who were not as lucky—and one of them just happened to be his little
sister. Michael wants Sabrina’s help in finding the man who murdered his sister,
and he won’t take no for an answer. He drags Sabrina out of the tower she’s
locked herself away in, kicking and screaming… patience has never been his
strong-suit.
Carved in Darkness
In order to save her family,
San Francisco homicide inspector Sabrina Vaughn must confront her past as the
first victim and sole survivor of a vicious serial killer. Now that he knows
she survived, the killer will stop at nothing to re-claim her.
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Carved in Darkness sounds like a great read. I will check it out. But somehow, I just know it will pass the test. I can tell by the way the author speaks that Carved in Darkness is a great idea and will hold my suspense.
ReplyDeleteNick
Amazing the way stories come to us; the glimpse, a fleeting glance at a stranger crossed in the street, a stray word. When I was in the Dominican Republic some years ago, I took lots of photos. On examining them at home, something about a young man's face in the crowd caught my attention. He was laughing, but his eyes spoke of secrets and confusion. He because Marley, a secondary character in my novel Life Is A Foreign Language.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reminding me that there are no wasted moments.
Thanks, Nick! I hope you enjoy the read. :)
ReplyDeleteMaegan
Your post tells me that I'm going to like your writing style and to get this book. It's always great to hear how someone has gained a story idea or what led to a new character. This was great.
ReplyDeleteHow right you are, Rayne! As writers, we never know when inspiration will strike and it usually strikes us in the strangest ways.
ReplyDeleteMaegan
Thanks, Claire! For a writer, developing a voice that is unique to them is sometimes difficult. I'm glad to know you liked mine, and if you check out CARVED, I hope you like it!
ReplyDeleteMaegan
I had a similar experience years ago - a brief glimpse of a young woman I "knew" was a main character. Don't you wonder what the people who inspire in such a fleeting way might think?
ReplyDeleteIf that young woman knew she'd served as inspiration for CARVED,she'd probably take a restraining order out against me. ;)
ReplyDelete