I had the great privilege of interviewing Susan Sleeman. I enjoyed getting to know more about her, and I hope you do as well. I asked her a variety of questions, and here is what she had to say:

Would you mind telling us a bit about yourself?
I grew up in small town of 700 people in northern Wisconsin. My parents owned the local grocery store and I have an older brother and sister. This town was surrounded by a farming community. Though it’s a peaceful place to live, for as long as I can remember, I couldn’t wait to leave home and explore the world. It was just in my blood, I guess. As a result, I’ve lived in some amazing parts of our country, nine states actually, and feel blessed to have had those experiences. Today, I live in Oregon with my husband who is a retired music director. I have two grown daughters, a wonderful son in law, and a seven-year-old grandson.

When did you first realize that you wanted to be a writer?
I always wanted to write a book but as many people today, I was too busy to sit down and do it. Then I was struck with a chronic illness and I was forced to sit for long periods of time. A type A personality, I couldn’t sit and do nothing so I started writing.  As the disease progressed, I had more and more time to write and soon I was writing full time and actively pursuing publication.

What do you think is the hardest thing about writing?
Though people think writing is a glamorous profession, that writers live exciting lives, that we sit down at our computer and words flow out and our editors read them and gush over our work, in reality, it’s a pretty solitary life, with lots of research, tons of editing, writing drafts and more drafts before a final product is birthed. So I think the hardest part is that after learning the basic craft of writing you must be disciplined to continue through this process. No one is standing over you telling you what to do. How many words to put on paper that day. What needs to be edited. How to work at improving your skills. How to continue working on a book until your best possible work is achieved. How to handle rejection and critical reviews of your work and still keep going.  You are all alone, in front of you computer. Facebook. Twitter. The TV all beckon. Shoot, on some days cleaning the bathroom looks more appealing than writing. So you have to dig deep and find the discipline to work. 

What is your usual writing routine? Do you have a specific time of day or place that you like to write?
I start each day with coffee and devotions. Then I watch a popular Christian speaker on TV. I follow that with answering email, and of course, checking Facebook and Twitter. Then I begin with whatever project I have going that day and work to complete a goal I have set. If I am writing the beginning draft of a book, I must write a minimum of 3000 words before I can quit for the day. If I have edits due on a book, I assign a certain number of pages that I must edit before I can quit. And with my schedule of late in having multiple books being published per year, I usually am writing one book in the morning and editing another in the afternoon. Throughout the day, I check email and social media to respond to any comments. Since I work at home, I also take breaks to do chores as well. A load of laundry, the dishes, all of these things I fit in when I need  a break. Also, at this time of year, I will pop outside and do some gardening for a few minutes to relax. Since I have some health issues, I cannot sit for at a desk for long periods of time so I usually write sitting in a recliner.

Can you tell us about Web of Secrets?
Web of Secrets is book three in my Agents Under Fire series. It features FBI agent Becca Lange who works on an FBI Cyber Action Team. At fifteen, she was abducted by a serial killer but managed to escape and the man was never caught. So she was given a new home, a new name . . . and the determination to save other foster kids from suffering similar horrors. Now Agent Becca Lange, she is the middle of a credit card fraud investigation when she’s faced with her worst nightmare: the serial killer, Van Gogh–given the name because he removed his victims’ ears–has resurfaced. Back in the nineties, Van Gogh tortured, then killed several young foster girls. Becca was almost one of them.

Over the years, she’s been keeping her own investigation going. So when the police come to her for help, she’s more than ready to do what it takes to put Van Gogh behind bars–even if it means working with Connor Warren, the easy-going cop whose attentions she’s been avoiding. Connor is too charming, too good-looking, too . . . tempting. He makes Becca want things she can never have. And might never have . . .

Because Van Gogh isn’t finished with Becca yet. He’s been searching for her all these years. And now that he’s found her, he’s got a plan to keep her . . . forever.

How did you come up with the idea for the Agents Under Fire Series?
I love computers and electronics—like stand in line for the next iPhone love them. And since they are becoming more and more a part of our lives I wanted to use my knowledge to share stories of how cyber crimes can impact our everyday lives. That’s how the Agents Under Fire series was born. This series features three female FBI agents who work on an elite FBI Cyber Action Team, so of course, the stories in the series need to revolve around cyber crimes.

What is the main thing that you hope readers will remember from this book?
I hope they take away the fact that, though technology is great, it can be dangerous and that safeguards need to be put into place to protect your privacy and keep you safe. Also, I hope that they see three strong women who struggle with an issue in their lives and overcome those issues. We all have something we are struggling with and it is possible to be an overcomer. 

What has been your favorite book that you have written and why?
Choosing a favorite is hard to do, but there are a few books that have always resonated with me. No Way Out, book three in my Justice Agency, Emergency Response, book four in my First Responders series, and Web of Secrets, book three in my Agent’s Under Fire series, all have a special place in my heart, but I can’t tell you why as I honestly don’t know. It’s similar to when I read a book by a favorite author, and I like one better than the others, I can’t put my finger on the reason, I just like it. I wish I could figure it out as I could purposefully implement the findings as I write, but alas, it’s an elusive thing for me.

Which of your characters would you like to spend the day with and what would you do?
Well, since I admitted my love of technology, it will come as no surprise that I would love to spend the day with the agents in the Agents Under Fire series. I’d love to go to work with them and see their actual day to day work. See the tools and techniques they use to catch the bad guys. Oh, and maybe take a trip to the firing range with them and shoot a few rounds.

What writing projects are you working on right now?
I am working on so many projects right now my head is spinning. I am completing edits for Christmas Conspiracy, the final book of my First Responder series that will release in December. I am also finishing a cozy mystery and edits on another mystery for a multi-author series called Antique Shop Mysteries.  I am also working on a brand new series, White Knights, to be published by the FaithWords imprint of Hachette Book Group. This series is about a group of FBI agents as well. The elite Critical Incident Response Team headquartered in Washington, D.C. includes experts in crisis management, explosives, ballistics/weapons, negotiating/criminal profiling, cyber crimes, and forensics. All team members are former military and they stand ready to deploy within four hours anytime and anywhere to mitigate the highest-priority threats facing our nation. I have finished book one, Fatal Mistake, and it is scheduled to release in May of 2017.

Is it hard juggling multiple writing projects at a time? How do you keep the different stories straight and separated?
In a word, YES! It’s very hard juggling them all. Working on two books is easy for me. Add a third or a fourth and my brain melts down. I have used the wrong character’s name in the wrong book. I have started to insert secondary characters in the wrong books. It’s particularly challenging in writing suspense and mystery stories as the plot elements are so complicated.  But the way I mostly keep it straight is that I take a short break before moving between projects and get my mind back into the head of the next project’s characters. It seems to work, but I have to say I will never have three books due on the same day again as I did in April. LOL

With so many books turning into movies, have you ever thought about any of your books possibly becoming a movie someday? If so, which one(s) would you like to see become a movie?
I would love to have one of my books be a movie. In my opinion any or all of them could be a movie.

Is there any particular book or author that has influenced you in any way?
There’s not a particular book that comes to mind, but I have to say reading many, many romantic suspense and mystery books gives me the feel for the genres and tells me what I like and don’t like in a book. This helps me decide what I want to include in my books and what I want my books to be known for.

If you could have been the original author of any book, what would it be and why?
I’d have to say the Bible. I’d like to have written one of the books as a first hand observer.

What do you like to do when you are not writing?
I love, love, love to garden and spend time with my family. 

What advice would you give to aspiring writers?
Probably the best advice I can give is to write, write, write, and then write some more. Though we can learn writing techniques in classes and seminars, which I highly encourage, it’s one thing knowing the rules of writing and quite another thing applying those rules to your own writing. So practice, like anything you learn to do, is essential, and that means writing a lot. Each book you write you will learn new things that you can then add to your repertoire and craft better books as you go along. And second, I would say that writer’s have to be open to criticism and be able to take a long hard look at their work to see if the criticism is valid then make changes accordingly. 

Is there anything else that you would like to share with us?
Just a very BIG thank you to all the readers out there. Both people who read my books, but also, those who read books by any author. You all are a special group, and I am thrilled that many of you enjoy reading the words that I put on paper. I am honored to be a writer and thrilled that I can spend my days in a make believe world that brings enjoyment to others. So READ ON!

Thank you so much, Susan, for taking the time to answer my questions. I enjoyed finding out more about you. Have A Wonderful Day!!!


​

​Susan is the bestselling author of Christian/inspirational and clean reads romantic suspense and mysteries. She grew up in a small Wisconsin town where she spent her summers reading Nancy Drew and developing a love of mystery and suspense books. Today, Susan channels this enthusiasm into writing romantic suspense and mystery novels and hosting the popular internet website TheSuspenseZone.com.

Susan's newest book "Web of Secrets" came out yesterday, May 13. I hope you will be able to check the third installment in the Agents Under Fire Series. You can find each book in the series from the following places:

​Web of Secrets:
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1TCSUtu
BN: http://bit.ly/1Q7h5hM
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1W5VuNY
Apple: http://apple.co/1T7OssX
Google: http://bit.ly/1W5Vwpe

I am very pleased to introduce to you Susan Sleeman. I stumbled across her books late last year, and I instantly fell in love with them. Today, Susan would like to share with us "How A Character is Born". But first I would like to introduce you to Susan Sleeman. 

How a Character is Born

​Many people ask me how a character is born so I thought I’d share my process by looking at my latest release Web of Secrets. This book is part of my Agents Under Fire series and it releases on May 13th. This series features three FBI agents who are part of an elite Cyber Action Team called in to solve the most difficult cyber intrusions. You know, intrusions like you’ve heard about on the news with companies like Target and Home Depot. But these stories go beyond simple credit card theft. In each book, the intrusions are very high-stakes that involve national security and serial murders. And, each intrusion takes a crazy turn and the agent suddenly finds herself in a run for her life.

So how did I come up with my characters for this book?  This may sound odd to non-writers, but I begin by interviewing my characters to discover their personality. Some of the characters like, Becca Lange Web of Secrets, don’t readily share, and I have get bossy and really pry. But once I know what makes them tick, I search the web for pictures of actors whose appearance best represents the character. To make that easier, as I watch TV and movies, I keep a list of actors by the personality type that I think they embody, locate their pictures on the web, and put them in a file for a handy reference.

Let’s  look at the main characters of Web of Secrets -
Becca is strong willed, and—as I mentioned above—not one to share her feelings. She’s an FBI agent dealing with some very evil cyber criminals so she has to be tough and someone who won’t let her feelings take over. I chose Maggie Grace as the woman who represents Becca. Can you see her in that role? 
​

​Connor Warren is a homicide detective. Having formerly been a street cop, it means he has to be rugged and tough, but he has a softer, kinder side. So I needed a guy who could stare down a fugitive in a dark alley and not blink, but then when Becca needed emotional support, a guy who could provide what she needed.  I chose Diego Klattenhoff for this role. What do you think? Can you see him being tough when needed and yet possessing a softer side? 

If you’ve read the first two books in the Agents Under Fire series, is this the way you saw Becca and Connor?  I hope so.
 
*****
 
Web of Secrets
A nightmare come true . . .
Years ago, a fifteen-year-old girl was abducted by a monster. Although she managed to escape, her tormenter was never caught. So the girl was given a new home, a new name . . . and the determination to save other foster kids from suffering similar horrors.
FBI Agent Becca Lange is in the middle of a credit card fraud investigation when she’s faced with her worst nightmare: a serial killer, van Gogh–given the name because he removed his victims’ ears–has resurfaced. Back in the nineties, van Gogh tortured, then killed several young foster girls. Becca was almost one of them.
Over the years, Becca’s been keeping her own investigation going. So when the police come to her for help, she’s more than ready to do what it takes to put van Gogh behind bars–even if it means working with Connor Warren, the easy-going cop whose attentions she’s been avoiding. Connor is too charming, too good-looking, too . . . tempting. He makes Becca want things she can never have. And might never have . . .
Because van Gogh isn’t finished with Becca yet. He’s been searching for her all these years. And now that he’s found her, he’s got a plan to keep her . . . forever.

I hope you’ll check out this series on my website and here’s a sneak peek from the pages of Web of Secrets.

Chapter One
She was going to die today.

He’d all but promised that. Now it was time, and he was coming for her, moving quickly above. His heavy footsteps headed for the cellar door, the solid footfalls confident, but uneven.

He’d developed a limp. Funny. She hadn’t noticed that until now.

Death, just over the horizon, sharpened her senses, she supposed.

Or was it the dark, the complete pitch black of the windowless space? Her mind was shrouded in pain and despair, her senses hyper-alert, the smells and sounds crisp and vivid. The musty scent of the basement. An old oil furnace in the corner emitting a metallic smell. His footsteps in the distance, growing closer as he headed for the cellar door.

For her.

Painful desperation swallowed everything around her.

Please, please, please don’t let him do this.

She heard each groan of the house. Each creak of the floor. Heard him reach the cellar door.

Her heart kicked hard, sounding a loud echo in her chest.

A key slipped into the deadbolt at the top of the stairs with a firm snick. She could picture the shiny new lock he’d dragged her past the first night. Remembered her hands clutching at anything to stay above ground, her nails breaking as they scratched to take purchase. Raw and ragged now.

Then the descent. Down the rickety wooden steps. Kicking. Fighting. The fist to her jaw. Seeing stars before her vision cleared. The light burning bright, revealing metal castings stacked on old rotting shelves. The shackles she now bore around her wrists lying limp on the scarred linoleum floor, waiting for her. 

The jars. No, stop. She didn’t want to think about them.

She’d thought of little else since she escaped from this madman who, in the late nineties, had pretended online to be Adam Smith, a man in his early twenties who’d developed a crush on her though she was only fifteen. She should have known better than to believe him, even when he’d given her a photo that showed how handsome he was. But as a foster kid, she’d craved love desperately, and he seemed to want to give it.

So she’d gone to meet him, but it turned out the picture he’d sent her had been retouched. His face was grotesquely scarred, and he soon had her handcuffed. Her foster sister, Lauren, had figured he was bad news so she’d followed, and he’d abducted the two of them. But they’d both eventually escaped.

The rusty hinges on the door groaned open like those on an old coffin. Only a stairway separated them.
Bile rose up her parched throat, gagging her. She swallowed hard and strained against the coarse rope digging into the oozing sores circling her wrists. Days of struggling had left them open. Maybe festering. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was the door groaning open. The air around her stirring, dragging a putrid current into the vortex. She retched at the smell of her own body. The stench of her own fear nearly overpowered everything. She hadn’t showered in four days or had access to a bathroom for as long.

She was disgusting.

She’d die like this. Be found like this. Would her family have to see her this way? Identify her?

God, please, no, she begged. Spare them.

A shadow of light filtered through the open doorway. His foot hit the top tread with a thud. Then the next, each step an earthshaking roll of thunder in her ears. His flashlight bobbed on the stairs. Quick circles of light moved down like a slinky before jerking back up. She saw his foot now in an arc of light. A big work boot. Size twelve or larger. Heavy lug soles, worn and scarred. His jeaned leg came next. Then a flannel work shirt. Red she thought, but the light suddenly danced ahead.

He reached the bottom. His boot struck the linoleum with a solid thump. Not a word came from his mouth, but his flashlight spoke for him. Sliding across the space. Searching.

She recoiled. Dug her heels into the floor. Scooted back and tried to cover her nakedness by drawing her knees into her chest.

Nowhere to go.

She needn’t worry about her family seeing her. No one would find her here. He’d chosen the perfect location, an abandoned metal fabrication plant with rows and rows of buildings. Some were in use, others had fallen into decay like this one.
He snapped the dangling string overhead. Light from a bare bulb flooded the area.

“Hello, Molly,” he said, as if they were meeting at a social event. But this wasn’t social—he was coming to kill her.
Her eyes ached from the sudden brightness. She blinked. Thought to keep her eyes closed and void seeing her killer’s face one more time.

Hadn’t she seen him enough in her dreams since she’d escaped his capture two decades ago? In nightmares replaying the torture of long ago. Now she was his captive once again, facing him for the last four days, his torment a blur of pain.

Yet, she couldn’t look away. She didn’t have the nerve to ignore her own death. She had to see him. To see the end of her life in his eyes.

She blinked hard until she could focus. His face was a mirror of the one in her dreams, except the passing years had etched wrinkles like a road map across his skin. The dark, dead eyes hadn’t changed. Hadn’t dulled. His chin was angular and covered in graying whiskers. Scars puckered his cheeks, and his nose was nothing more than a red knob, as if an afterthought.

Memories of their first meeting sixteen years ago came flooding back. The same revulsion curdled her stomach. It wasn’t the scars, the stub of a nose. She could handle the deformities from severe burns. It was the sneer of his lips and vile hatred in his gaze. The steady stare that never wavered.

Like now. His gaze sought her out, a hunter looking for prey. He smiled. Wide, toothy, a hint of contempt keeping his lips tight. “I hope you’ve had enough time to think and give me what I want.”

She couldn’t abide his stare, and dragged her gaze away. It landed on the shelf. Nine mason jars were lined up, a set of human ears in all but two of them, preserved in clear liquid. The jars were labeled with the numbers one through nine. Detectives had dubbed this madman Van Gogh for his penchant for removing his victims’ ears. There had been only five jars the last time he’d captured her. Now there were four more. The jars marked four and five were empty. Waiting. She wasn’t surprised to see those jars. Not when she and Lauren had both escaped. She’d figured he’d come after them again, even though they’d both done their best to disappear.

“Well, Molly. Where is Lauren?” he asked, his tone insistent and threatening.

Lauren. Shortly after Molly had overpowered him to escape, she’d seen a news report indicating that Lauren had died in a car crash. But Molly didn’t buy the story. At first, it seemed real, but the police slipped up on one little detail that only Molly would know, proving the detectives had faked Lauren’s death and given her a new identity.

Rebecca Lange. The regal name fit the current-day Lauren, a woman who had become a defender of foster children and a top-notch FBI agent. It was the name she’d always dreamt of having.

“Where’s Lauren?” Van Gogh asked again, this time removing Molly’s gag.

She gathered what little moisture she had in her mouth and spit at him.

He lurched back, anger darkening eyes she didn’t think could get any blacker. He looked up at the ceiling. Took a few breaths. “Don’t worry, Mother. I know she’s gone off the deep end. She will be cleansed today. Her funeral will draw Lauren out. I can cleanse both of them, and my collection will finally be complete.”

He often talked to his mother who was never present, so this wasn’t new. But Molly had never been successful in getting him to explain the cleansing ritual.

“Mother says it’s time to get you dressed.” He opened a box sitting on the shelf and lifted out a virginal white nightgown. “You remember this, don’t you my pet? You will be cleansed and free. Too bad you won’t help me find Lauren so she can know the joy of cleansing sooner.”

He leaned close, an ugly smile parting his lips. The whisper of his breath, the acrid smell of his unwashed body, made her stomach roil. She couldn’t speak. And she wouldn’t, even if she did know where Lauren lived. She’d never betray the trust of her foster sister.

Never.

If she did, he’d go after Lauren and kill her. Molly wouldn’t let that happen.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He went to the corner and ran a bucket of water, then put it on a table near the sink. He shoved a knife with sharp teeth lining the edge into a sheath on his belt. The knife that had once carved into her body, leaving the number four andinto other girls, including Lauren, who bore the number five.

Humming, he crossed the room to stare at Molly while snapping on a pair of latex gloves. “You really are a mess, aren’t you?”

She thought to try to cover herself, to maintain her dignity. But after the last few days, what dignity did she have left?
He unlocked the shackles, moved her out of her filth and toward the table. She fought, kicked, but after five days without food and little water, she was too weak to make a difference. He bathed her, each touch of the cloth making her want to vomit. Once in the demure nightgown, she lay back, defeated, on the table—his altar stained with blood—where he bound her to cold shackles mounted on the corners.

“It’s time, Molly. Tell me or . . .” His evil smile took his words and buried them in the recesses of the room. He lifted his knife. High. Advanced. His eyes burned with the intensity of fire. He slid his fingers over her ear—gently, almost tenderly, then suddenly backed away.

Was he going to let her live another day? Hope fluttered in her chest.

He crossed the room. Lifted jar number four, the liquid sloshing as he returned to her. He blew the dust from the rusted lid. Fine particles lingered in the beam of light before dissipating in the stale air. He held the knife between his teeth, his eyes gleaming.

He started unscrewing the lid, slowly, each twist feeling like a nail in Molly’s coffin. He set the open jar on the floor, a pungent odor smelling like pickles floated up to her nose. Fear coursed through her body.

Lauren. Remember Lauren.

He slipped his hand into his pocket and two pearl earrings emerged. She fixed her gaze on the burn scars crawling over his hands, not on the earring. He inserted the first one into her left ear. The piercing stud ripped her skin, making her feel as if she were being nailed to a cross. To her death.

This was it, for sure. The end.

She held her breath. He placed the second earring and stood back, his eyes now vacant and his mind somewhere else. Somewhere his earring ritual had taken him.

His breathing grew rapid and shallow, his chest barely moving. Eyes glazed over, he raised the knife. His smile, teeth rotted and yellowing, was the last thing she saw as he bent closer.

“Tell me or not, my pet, it doesn’t matter. The news coverage of my return will be legendary, and your death will bring Lauren to me. She won’t miss your funeral.”

The knife pricked her skin. Her heart seized and refused to beat. She ignored it. Ignored everything, her resolve still in place.

She’d die before letting this butcher near someone she loved.

And, as he’d promised . . . it would be today.


Thank you so much, Susan, for sharing with us "How a Character is Born" and thanks for giving us a peek at "Web of Secrets".




Susan's newest book "Web of Secrets came out yesterday. You can find this book and the first two books in the Agents Under Fire Series at the following places:

​Web of Secrets:
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1TCSUtu
BN: http://bit.ly/1Q7h5hM
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1W5VuNY
Apple: http://apple.co/1T7OssX
Google: http://bit.ly/1W5Vwpe