About the Author:
Jamie Sterling is always writing something, whether it’s at work or just an idea that will never see the light of day. As a technical writer by trade, it’s sometimes tough making the transition from dry, repetitive instructions and procedural steps to the richer, descriptive prose describing the passion, the conflict, and the drama of a romance novel. At times the dichotomy is overwhelming.
“I live in New York’s Mid-Hudson Valley and commute to Manhattan just about every day. It’s exhausting, but at least I get to write on the train, and that is a huge plus! Sometimes, when I’m stuck on a scene, just watching the scenery of the river and the hills surrounding it gets my creative juices flowing and gives me the best ideas.
“Captured Hunter is an exploration of how most people are afraid to pursue what they really want in life. We are all afraid of showing certain sides of ourselves, but it’s only by being brave enough do we have a chance to recognize our dreams.”
Jamie is a voracious reader and enjoys getting lost in the world that a book can create in the mind. “It’s better than TV or movies, because they force you to see what they show. In a book, the reader creates the set and how the characters look. I love that.”
Jamie’s first full-length romance novel, Captured Hunter, released earlier this month from Siren Publishing and is available as an e-book.
You can learn more about Jamie here:
Jamie’s Website: http://www.authorjamiesterling.com/
Siren Bookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/book/captured-hunter
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JamieSterlingRomance/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JamieSterling70
“We’re going to a haunted house?!” Stephanie nodded eagerly. “Yeah! It’s going to be so cool!”
Hunter looked skeptical. “I have to ask—is this a haunted house with actors playing decapitated corpses and jumping out at you, or is this a haunted house with mediums calling spirits from the dead?”
“Real spirits,” Stephanie said as she parked. “They do a real séance to call them.”
“This is the big surprise?”
“Yup. Scared?” Her voice was almost taunting him, daring him to show weakness.
“Uh, no. I have to admit I’m a little surprised that you believe in ghosts and spirits and all that stuff.”
“You don’t?”
“Not a bit. I think they are a combination of overactive imaginations and wishful thinking. There’s nothing that passes as proof, or even evidence, of ghosts. As a woman of science, shouldn’t you believe what the evidence points to?”
Stephanie seemed entertained by Hunter’s challenging position. “Of course I do. And that’s the beauty of it. I don’t know if ghosts really exist anymore than the next person, because I’ve never seen any evidence. But me not seeing evidence is not the same as there being no evidence, or evidence to the contrary, so I’m a doubter until I see something definitive, like you say. Maybe there is no evidence because ghosts don’t exist, maybe we can’t perceive the kind of evidence they leave behind, or—hey, don’t roll your eyes at me! —or maybe spirits like to tease the living, showing us just enough to make us uncertain of their existence.”
She parked and they headed for the entrance. “‘Tease the living?’” Hunter was caught up in this debate, mostly because he knew it was in good fun and also because Stephanie appeared entertained by the back and forth. “So ghosts come back from the dead to…mess with our heads? I’d rather be one of those totally evil ghosts that scares the shit out of people and makes them drop dead on the spot.”
“I think you could pull that off!” she said as she slugged him in the arm while they walked. “Don’t you like scary movies?”
“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I think the plot is non-fiction. I like Christmas movies and cartoons, but I don’t think Santa Claus is real or that rabbits and ducks and pigs can talk.”
“Cartoons? Really?” She shook her head dismissively. “Anyway, it’s fun to be scared, and it makes it scarier when you give a little credence to the idea that these things might be real and lurking around the corner, so I suspend my disbelief.” They reached the entrance of the rather large colonial-style home. “I want this to be fun—do you think you can figure out a way to have fun with it?”
He thought for a moment. Hunter had to agree that it used to be fun to turn off the lights and scare the crap out of himself. He had read The Amityville Horror as a twelve-year-old, and it had cost him many nights of sleep, wondering what might happen to him in his house at 3:15 a.m. However, back then he hadn’t been nearly as sure about the lack of ghosts and spirits as now. That would make it harder to fully commit to the evening, but he wanted to have fun as well. “OK, I’ll find a way to enjoy myself and stay in the spirit.”
“Thanks.”
