Killing Me Softly…
I did a three-day book signing this past weekend at the Glendale Chocolate Affaire. Here’s a dialogue that I engaged in many times:
“What do you write? ”
The potential book buyer’s gaze goes curious. I can almost hear the word: oxymoron.
Killing Me Softly…
Recently, here on the Craftie suspense site, many of the authors have discussed their favorite suspense writers. Interestingly enough, about 80% do not fall in the Christian inspirational suspense genre. Why? Well, Christian inspirational suspense is fairly new. Most of us credit Dee Henderson for its birth. Most of us credit a misjudgement of what “Killing Me Softly” means for it slow trek to avid readers hand.
Who reads Christian suspense? Should be everybody. But, it’s not. Quite a few people define Christian suspense as Jessica Fletcher meets Ben Matlock and they fall in love and attend church (They also get married in Atlanta because in Cabot Cove everyone has been murdered).
No, No, No. Christian suspense is not the above.
Lisa Gardner, a very well-known suspense writer, often provides this definition of romantic suspense:
As a general rule, romantic suspense is a book that has both a romance element and a suspense element... and works both on developing key relationships as well as advancing some kind of intrigue...)
Christian suspense is no different except that one of our books key relationships has to do with faith and we authors do not add sex scenes or pepper the book with foul language.
I'm going to provide a comparison.
At my house, my mother was the live-wire. I remember one time, when I was just 16, we’d had a fight. I stormed out of the house, with my car keys, and got into the old station wagon the parental units insisted be my first car (Dad said if I hit a brick wall, I’d hurt the brick wall and not the car. How he knew I’d hit a brick wall… I still don’t know). I jumped in and drove down the street - mad, grumbling - and looked in the rear-view mirror. Mom was chasing me, not in her car by on foot, and was keeping up. (Yup, it was a little scary.) Dad, on the other hand, had the look. Enough said. He didn’t chase me. Even if my back was to him, and I was flying out the door with my car keys, the look would hook into my back and my toes would go heavy, and I’d stop. Dad’s look killed me softly. No less effective than my fifty-something mother chasing me down the street.
Christian inspirational suspense has the ‘look’ and more, and that is why Killing Me Softly will take Christian inspirational fiction to the top.
Go ahead, buy one.
I’m giving you the look.