Sunday, April 10, 2011

More Than Memories by Kristen James

More Than MemoriesKindle Price:
Available From:
Amazon US Kindle

Molly Anderson returns “home” to a town she doesn’t remember, hoping it will spark a memory. She runs into Trent Williams, an off duty police officer, and something else definitely sparks.

He wants to know why she left town, with her parents, but without a word to anyone. She doesn’t remember that life. She can only tell him she knew her parents briefly before they died . . . or were murdered, she’s not sure. She hopes regaining her memory will help answer that question.

Trent has his own secrets, but they have a mystery to solve. As they work together and Molly meets their old friends, she realizes their relationship went deeper than memories. In fact, she grew up in Ridge City, even though her parents had said they lived there just a few years. How could she have forgotten her lifelong friend and love? Can she love him again if she doesn’t remember him? There’s also the possibility that she did something awful -- and maybe that’s why she’s afraid to remember her old life.

Molly knows she wants him now, but the truth might destroy their love.

Kristen James works as a full time author and publisher. She lives on the river and enjoys the outdoors, especially through hiking, cycling, camping and berry picking. Her other novels include A Cowboy For Christmas and The River People, and she has a nonfiction book titled Book Promoting 101

What will readers like about your book?
This romance features a true gentleman, the kind of man we dream about. He waited for his lost love for several years, believing he would somehow find her. There’s a hint of suspense and mystery, along with the romantic tension. More Than Memories is set in beautiful Oregon in the spring with a trip to the ocean and California.

Why did you self publish?
I began self publishing in 2007 with The River People and a flash fiction journal, which helped quite a few writers break into print. I fell in love with designing the cover and interior layout. Not only do I get to create a world within a book, I get to design and create the wrapping. Traditionally published authors tell me they hate their covers. Guess what? I love mine! I love having control, giving away copies, and putting the book on sales when I want to. I can also set my prices low enough that people can afford the book.

What is your writing process?
I spend some time building a movie in my head. I begin writing when the story is too big to wrap my brain around, and the characters are bugging me to write it. I know the book will work, and I can complete it, when it won’t leave me alone and needs to be written.

How long does it take you to write your first draft?
I’ve written many in three months, after the initial thinking period. I also ghostwrite so I know how to keep a tight schedule, and I also can write like the wind when I have a great idea developed.

What inspired you to write this particular story?
I’ve always enjoyed amnesia stories and books about childhood sweethearts, so this book is about both of those. My books are about the characters; their conflicts and personalities make a story. Molly and Trent, in More Than Memories, about wrote the story themselves. I’m not exactly sure where my characters come from, but I spend time writing and getting to know them to see what they’re going to do. I imagined what a “real man” would be like for Trent. He’s dedicated, strong and keen on protecting others – he’s a police officer. Molly was bold and carefree, but then lost her memory and became unsure of herself and life.


Seeing the police department sign, she slowed, hesitated, and then pushed herself to quickly walk inside. At the desk, an older and kind looking blonde smiled. “How can I help you?”

Molly liked her soft blue eyes and motherly appearance.

“My name is Molly Anderson,” she started with a shake in her voice. She cleared her throat and straightened herself, trying for confidence. “I might have lived here about five years ago, before I was hurt and lost my memory.”

The woman’s smile remained, but her brows pulled together and her eyes gained this intense focus. “Did you say Molly Anderson?”

Even while Molly nodded, the woman grabbed her phone. “Trent, get up here.”

Molly’s heart jumped into double time while her stomach squeezed into a ball. She crossed her fingers behind her back but also wanted to run right back outside.

A door opened to her right and a man stepped out, actually a broad shouldered cowboy about six feet tall, built like a bulldog, with deep brown eyes that lit up all shiny and bright when he spotted her. He looked genuinely happy to see her, but his size and posture startled her.


She jerked, jumped out of her skin really, upon hearing the rugged voice. “Uh…”

The excitement faded. “Mol?”

Now that someone actually recognized her, she didn’t know what to say. This man didn’t speak either, but stared right back at her. He was clean-shaven and neat with dark hair and eyes, a strong face that fit this build.

He glanced at the receptionist and back at her as if he didn’t believe what he was seeing in front of him.

Flip—flop went her stomach. Those eyes … wow. Molly didn’t remember ever feeling a burning and tingling excitement like this, but she knew what it was.

His chocolate-brown eyes gazed into hers like he was looking at Elvis back from the dead. Suddenly aware that her lips were parted in surprise, she pulled them shut, trying to pull her desperate hope back inside her before he saw. She saw a million emotions swirl in his eyes as he took her in.

“Molly, why don’t you come with me so we can talk?” He swung the door open. She didn’t move, and noticed he looked either confused or hurt. “You’re perfectly safe here.”

She nodded, tried to give the kind woman a smile and walked through the door. He shut it behind him and gestured down the hall. They went into a small room with a table, chairs and a shelf with a coffee maker. Nervous again, she turned to him in surprise.

“Please, relax,” he said softly, “I just want a quiet place for us to talk. I’m here to help you.”

“You know me?” She barely managed the words as she sat down.

His raised eyebrows and bewildered eyes turned to pleading at her words. But pleading for what? For her to recognize him, of course. He knows me!


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