Everyone tells me that being a writer is a solitary career, that you have to be alone to do it, but I don't think so. When you’re writing you are never alone. You are in a world you created with characters you brought to life. Boy doesn't that sound strange! Nevertheless it is true and while you are visiting their world you control what they do and say, unless you're like my character and they take over the script, like mine do.
For me it’s normal to get carried away with my characters. They seem so real. I can see them in my mind and I know all their strengths and flaws. I know what they look like and what they will do in certain situations, I also know their weakness.
It sounds like I'm a control freak, doesn't it? But it’s not the case, I did tell you that in most of my stories the characters take over at some point, didn't I? It’s usually at the point where I think nothing more can happen that’s when I lay down on the couch for a minute. As soon as I do that my characters whisper a new twist in the story to me and I'm up and running for my keyboard. I just love when that happens…
As a writer I try to let my readers experience the story by becoming one of the characters. If I can do that, then I’ve done my job as a writer and when the reviews come in I’m always thrilled. It’s a lot of hard work sometimes getting the words just the way you want them, but there is no bigger reward, at least for me when a publisher tells me they want to print my story.
Blood Memories came to be from the idea of a young girl who witnessed a tragedy. At three years old her mind blocked out the traumatic event . Only when she goes back to her home does her memory return, but now she can handle the rush of memories that go with it and she has two guys to help her.
All my books are written from pure imagination. People always ask what kind of research I do for my books. I might look up little things but most of what I write is from creative thinking. That’s what I love about being a writer, the only obstacle is the one you make, the world is yours all you have to do is imagine it, to make it so…
Kim lives in a small town (population495) in Wisconsin. From her deck she can see the Mississippi River on one side and the bluffs, where eagles live and nest on the other side. She lives with her husband Dave and dog Sammy. Her two children are grown and she has two grandchildren. She loves to watch people and that has helped her with her writing. She loves to create characters and put them in a troubling situation then sit back and let them do all the work. Her characters surprise even her at times. At some point in the book they take on a life of their own and the twists and turns become the story. Of all the stories she could write she found she liked mystery/thrillers the best. She likes to keep her readers guessing until the very end of the book.
Web site: http://www.kjdahlen.com
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When an accident turns out to be not an accident but murder Savannah must solve a double murder that happened over twenty years ago to find the truth. She was the only witness to her parent’s murder and now their killer is after her. She puts her trust into a man her aunt has known and all these years but evidence soon points to him being involved with the man she thinks killed her parents. Will she prove him innocent or fall prey to his intent? Her life and over two million dollars in diamonds is at stake.
She was sure she didn't know him yet he seemed very familiar to her. She tilted her head and studied him for a moment. Bits and pieces from her past flashed through her mind as she tried to place him, but it wasn't until he smiled she remembered where she'd seen him before. A few years ago when she was coming home from school, he was leaving her aunt's house. His smile was as warm then as it was now. He pushed away from the tree and began walking toward her.
Savannah waited until he reached her to hold out her hand. When he took her hand in his, she had to say, "I don't think we've met before, but I've seen you somewhere."
He smiled. "I've known you most of your life. I was a friend of your aunt's." He shifted his gaze to the disturbed ground of Donna's grave. "I'm sorry I didn't get here in time. I only arrived this morning. When I read the paper, I found her obituary. I had to come, at least to say good-bye.
Savannah smiled. "I remember you. I'd see you leaving as I was coming home. I asked her about you, but she wouldn't tell me who you were."
He smiled. "I'm sorry, my name is Charlie Manning."
Savannah shook his hand. "I'm Savannah George."
Charlie glanced away for a moment then looked back at her. "If Donna didn't tell you who I was, then she wouldn't have told you what I am."
"Excuse me?" Savannah said. "I don't understand. What should she have told me about you?" Savannah was intrigued now. She was finding her aunt had kept a number of secrets over the years.
Charlie leaned back on his heels. "You may not remember me, but I'm a cop from Chicago. We met once when you were three years old."
Savannah felt a chill run down her spine. She lived in the Chicago area with her parents until she was three years old. Taking a deep breath, "I think we should talk, but not here. Let's go back to my aunt's house. I have some questions for you. I think it’s time for me to know the truth."
Charlie stepped back and allowed her to lead the way down the hill. He got into his car and followed her back to Donna's house. The drive only took minutes but seemed longer.
Savannah glanced at the package sitting on the passenger seat. Whatever her past was, maybe the answers she'd sought all these years would finally be revealed. She checked her rear view mirror as Charlie Manning pulled in the space behind her.
Grabbing the package, she opened her door and walked to the front door. Once they were inside Savannah made a pot of coffee. A few minutes later she sat down at the kitchen table and stared at Charlie.
"Ok, mister policeman from Chicago, tell me what happened twenty two years ago that caused my aunt to take me and run." Savannah said.
Charlie studied her for a moment then decided to tell her the truth. "There is no easy way to say what I came here to say."
"Just spit it out then."
"How about the fact that at three years old, you might have been the only witness to the brutal double murders of your parents?" Charlie finally told her.