Talk about tips, tricks, and tools that help keep your life organized.
The biggest tip and trick that I have for keeping organized is my husband. He does a great job of looking after me. With his help, over the years, we have developed processes for my books. I write the manuscripts and then Dominic reviews them for me. He knows the various things that I tend to do wrong and keeps a watch for them.
Once the manuscript has completed Dominic’s review, I look at his notes, make updates, and then get the manuscript ready for submission or to move on to the editor if the title is going to be self published.
From there Dominic helps me with titles, choosing covers, and a lot of other things. If a problem develops, then we make changes and continue.
Over the years, a number of others have helped me and I’m so grateful to all of them. Writing is a solitary activity, but I’ve found that no one can do it alone.
decision. Quinton is a loving, devoted father—and he’s handsome. Wyatt can’t help but take a personal interest.
Yee-ooom…. Yeee-ooom…. Two cars sped by in rapid succession. Wyatt flipped on his lights, turned on the siren, and pulled out. Fortunately the highway was clear, and he stepped on it as he called in. “Two cars doing eighty-five plus. One chasing the other.” His adrenaline was already pumping as he got up to speed. “Lead car, white late-model Lexus. Chaser, a red Camry, heading south on 81, passing exit forty-four. Request backup.” He sped up until he was doing almost ninety-five, but he still didn’t make any headway. He could only hope to God that one of them didn’t kill themselves or someone else if they lost control.
Dispatch came right back, confirming backup. Wyatt continued driving, the world zipping past his car at an ever-increasing speed. The siren screamed, and other drivers pulled the hell over to get out of the way. Clearing his way through traffic was made easier by the unnerving speed of the other two cars.
The Camry seemed to be losing the race, and Wyatt gained on it and called in the plate to have it run. “Slow your vehicle down and pull over,” he said through the speaker, staying behind the losing driver in this two-man race. “Pull over,” he repeated.
The Camry finally broke speed, slowed down, and pulled off to the side of the road. Wyatt came to a stop right behind the other car. “Turn off your engine,” he said through the speaker and took a deep breath as he waited for the report on the license plate to come back.
His onboard computer flashed the name of the registered owner, Quinton Jackson, age twenty-six, along with a history of traffic and nonviolent offenses dating back to early adulthood. Great, this was going to be interesting. Wyatt didn’t know what was going on, and he wasn’t taking any chances. He got out of his car, gun and Taser at the ready, and approached the vehicle slowly. The driver’s window lowered, and Wyatt waited, ready to take cover if a weapon made an appearance. “Do you have any idea how fast you were going?” Wyatt asked.
“I know. My son is in that car.” Instead of the smart-mouthed answer he’d expected, he got near panic. “That’s my son’s mother’s car, and my son is in the back seat. He’s three months old, and some asshole stole the car.”
In an instant, everything changed. “Let me get this straight—”
“Some guy stole the Lexus, and my son’s lunatic mother had left him in the back in his car seat because he was asleep. I’m telling you someone stole the damn car with him in it. For God’s sake, do something.” Huge blue eyes pleaded with him from inside the car.
Wyatt grabbed his radio. “Possible kidnap victim in back seat of white Lexus. Three-month-old boy in car seat. I repeat, report of a child in the back seat of the white Lexus.” Jesus Christ on the cross.
andrew is a new author for me
Eyes Only For Me
I love the cop books