Interview with Wilhelmina Stolen

We are having a giveaway going on for March. 

 What item are you giving away? 

I am giving away a $5 gift certificate/ free digital copy of Sullivan's Way via Smashwords. (Anyone can win the item by going to the rafflecopter on the right hand side of the pg.)

First why don't you tell us a little about yourself? 

I live on a small farm in Kentucky with my husband, two 
sons and their families.  I have degrees in technology, business, management and education and a passion for history, genealogy and writing.

Newest release? 

Sullivan's Way

Sullivan's Way was released in January. It is the first book in my Way of Hearts Saga! Book two, Love Finds Its Way is due out in the fall. 

What can we expect from your stories, action, drama, romance, sex, blood and guts? 

My stories are all about romance, drama, action and sex.

Do you have a favorite character in your stories? Who? and Why? 

I really enjoy writing about Daniel Sullivan. In Sullivan's Way he is grieving for his wife and trying to adjust to life without her.
              “Night after night, he’d barricaded himself in his study awaiting death. In its embrace he could once again be with his wife. Oh, how he longed for her! Just a glimpse or a touch of her sweet spirit was past all hope. Death came so easy to her, why not to him? His dreams thrived with her breathtaking green eyes and soft smile. Sometimes her sweet voice pulled him out of his whiskey induced dreams and her presence would fill the morbid night. At that exact moment, he could feel her so close that her scent enveloped him.”
He has a vengeful side and a temper, both of which I can relate to. But Daniel also has a compassionate and caring side.  

How about you’re least favorite character? What makes them less appealing to you? 

Ezekiel Roark would have to be my least favorite character. He's an arrogant young man with a large chip on his shoulder. 

Give us an interesting fun fact or a few about your book or series. 

Here are a few off the top of my head:
1       The chapter eight description of the Sullivan settlement was written from a dream.
          My inspiration for the last scene in chapter twenty-three was a combination of my trip to Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond, Virginia and a Civil War photo by Alexander Gardner at a Belle Isle Civil War Prison Camp. 
3       The grin that Marnie wants to slap off Mason’s face is my husbands.
4      The twelve little girls in the cemetery are real.

Has there been any other authors who have inspired your work or helped you out with your stories? 

Authors Grace Burrowes and Linda Morelli are always so gracious with their knowledge and advice. However, the two ladies I turn to the most are Sara Barnard and Christine Steendam. Both are fantastic authors and good friends.

What can readers who enjoy your book do to help make it successful? 

Spread the word and let people know that you love it! Give it a review or send me a message. Let me know you liked it!

I love getting messages, pictures and emails from people that like my stories. Feel free to connect with me on:
Visit my website: www.wilhelminastolen.com

Do you have any tips for readers or advice for other writers trying to get published? 

Never give up! Never let go of your story. It is yours and can only be told by you. It may need work or help as it evolves but it's your creation. Don’t let anyone take that away from you. Know who you are as a writer and go for it! Dream big!

Do you have a favorite author? If yes, what draws you to that person’s work? 

Elizabeth Lowell is one of my favorites. Her stories are wonderful in every way possible!

Can you remember one of the first things you wrote? What makes it memorable? 

One of the first stories I wrote was for an English class I had in junior high. It was for Ms. Mendez. I’ll never forget her. She gave us pictures and told us to pick one and write about it. I chose a young boy standing on a roof top with his back to the audience, looking out over the city. To me, this boy was contemplating his resent enlistment into the armed forces. He was so eager to defend his country but at the same time questioned why he was going. The story was only a page and a half but Ms. Mendez loved it. She said she could feel his struggle and emotions. Her response to my little story hooked me! I knew I wanted to write.  

Where do you gather most of the inspiration for your works? 

I gather inspiration from everything, graveyards, old wills, marriage certificates, songs, pictures, sunsets… the list goes on and on.

Do you have any other interesting hobbies, pets or stories you would like to share? 

I wish I had time for hobbies. I work 40-50 hours a week at a full time job. Any free time I have is consumed by writing, research or promotion. 

Favorite places to travel or visit? 

I love the southwest and am planning a trip to Ireland.

And now, before you go, how about a snippet from your book that is meant to intrigue and tantalize us :( Include links to where we can find your work)
An excerpt from
Chapter 6 of
Sullivan’s Way
Marnie struggled to open her eyes. Her arm hurt. A clouded glimmer, a shadow, and rain beating like drums on the old roof. The faint shadows began to spin when she raised her head, “Oh, God my head!” she whispered as she sat up. The pain from her arm brought her back to the reality of her captive state. I’ve been caught!
She pushed herself against the wall, surveying the area around her, No bars. From under her hat, she searched for any familiarity. When her eyes focused, a jolt of relief ran over her. It’s the hunter’s cabin.
A scant space of light fanned out from the fire, revealing only a portion of the dimly lit cabin. With slow movements, she turned her head toward the darkness. The rain came in waves against the side of the cabin, building tension with her racing heart. The man made no sound, nothing to suggest he was lurking in the shadows. But he was there; she could feel him watching her. When a single boot appeared, Marnie held her breath. Her back stiffened with fear when the other boot slowly slid forward.
Her eyes eased upward to the man in front of the fireplace. With his torso bare, the firelight shimmered against his naked flesh, his body beautiful and captivating. He was like the magnificent bronze sculptures in her European art books. Droplets of water glided down his dark hair and onto his wide chest. His shoulder length hair hid his face, forcing Marnie to examine other parts of his body. The muscles in his chest merged into a defined abdomen and narrow hips. Her eyes traveled down his thighs and onto the floor. She tucked her chin into the collar of her coat and waited. The deep thud of her heart against her chest overtook the pounding rain.
The man’s jaw seemed to unclench when she drew her body into a ball and drew her arms around her knees. He took out a rag from his pocket and proceeded to dry himself. Marnie swallowed and followed his hands. At first, they were at his chest, then his arms, then his stomach. Her eyes traveled curiously away from the rag and followed a trail of black hair descending downward. When his hands proceeded to the buttons of his pants, Marnie swayed slightly. That hadn’t been in the books!
“Which one are you?” his large hands opened and closed at his side, repeatedly forming into fists.
Marnie tugged her hat down farther over her eyes and raised her head. Beneath the flat brim of her hat, she couldn’t resist her curious examination of the beautiful man in front of the fire.
“That was a stupid thing to do. Did you think you could outrun me?”
“I sat face to face with your Pa.” the man made a circle with his arms, “He’s a big brute of a man.” When she didn’t respond he continued, his tone was mocking, “You can’t be one of his boys.”
Marnie lowered her voice, “Go to hell!” The movement of her lips brought pain. Her fingers went to her mouth. Then she remembered.
He hit me! “You hit me!” Her voice was shrill.
“Damn right, I did!”
He moved to his saddle. This half naked brute thinks he owns the world!
“I’ll ask you one more time. Which one are you?”
Marnie recoiled when she saw the rope in his hand, “Why do you care which one I am? I’m sure your boss will pay a good price for me.” she snapped out.
“My boss?”
Anger urged her on, “Talon Dougal wants all the Sullivan’s dead.”
“I don’t work for Talon.”
“I don’t believe you.” Just wait till he lets his guard down.
He crouched down in front of her, “I don’t give a damn what you believe.”
Dear Lord! It’s the Marshal from Silver Creek! The man she’d paraded around in front of like a buffoon. Marnie dropped her eyes, hiding them from the Marshal’s intense stare, “Then what do you want with me?”
“Justice.” He grabbed her wrists, causing her to wince in pain.
“What’s wrong?”
One hand moved up to the wound on her upper arm, “It’s nothing, I just cut myself in the fall.” She jerked her arm away from his grip. I need a diversion and fast.
“That’s bleed’n bad.” he frowned, “Let me see. I don’t want you bleed’n to death.” His fingers went to the buttons of her coat.
Marnie panicked, “I’m fine,” she smacked his hand away, “Just get the hell away from me!”
With one hand, he shoved her hard against the wall and wrapped the rope around her wrists, “Fine, bleed to death for all I care! It’ll save me from hanging you later!” The force made her want to cry, “When the rain stops, we ride. I have a feeling Dan’s headed home, and I intend to find him.”
“I’m not taking you to Papa. You might as well shoot me now! My Pa is sick and needs me, but I’d rather him die at home than at the end of your rope!” Marnie spat out.
“You don’t have to take me anywhere, and if you don’t shut up I’m going to knock you on your ass again!” he clinched his teeth together and then let out a long easy breath, “Now, I’m tired and thirsty so sit your ass still and be quiet!”
After a long chug from his bottle, he threw a blanket over his wet saddle and sat down in front of the fire. He exhaled and leaned back, “Why in hell did Sullivan let you boys get involved in this mess? You look just old enough to hang. Talon would love to see you wiggling from the bottom of a rope!”
She brushed the comment aside and concentrated on her escape. By now, the pain in her arm was one long throb and her insides jittered with caged energy. Her fingers fidgeted nervously against her knees.
The storm was relentless and each time a wave hit, Marnie bit her lip. The rain would make tracking difficult. She watched him take a long drink and slide lower onto the floor. The Marshal would soon be too drunk to stop her escape. Marnie smiled and waited.
After what seemed like hours, she pressed her face against her hands and fought the urge to cry. The whiskey bottle sat beside him while he stared into the fire, wide awake. Her stomach growled and she shivered in her wet clothes. With every blink her lids grew heavier and harder to open. In minutes she was fast asleep, dreaming of the only thing that gave her comfort.
Thanks for having me, Julie! This was fun!

Thanks for visiting us here on JBR! We wish you great success!
Julie Ramsey

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