ABOUT CUL-DE-SAC:
Synopsis (from Amazon):
Welcome to Connelly Court. A secluded, old money neighborhood, harboring a web of desires and deceit behind pristine facades and manicured lawns, where the lives of a group of neighbors, bound by their shared secrets and unconventional lifestyle, are about to unravel.
Michael and Amelia Ross move into their dream home, and get drawn into the seductive allure. But their house once belonged to a family whose lives were seemingly ruined by their participation, which leads Amelia to question everything about her new-found friends. Suspicions run rampant as the close-knit group turns on each other. Lies, betrayals, and hidden agendas are revealed, ripping apart the fabric that once bound the group together.
“Cul-de-Sac” is a dark tale of marriage, friendship, desire, and betrayal, where nothing is as it seems, and the truth may be more shocking than anyone could have imagined. Discover the twisted secrets of Connelly Court in this chilling domestic suspense novel that will leave you questioning just how well you truly know—or should know—your neighbors.
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Excerpt #1:
“Are you serious?” Melissa put the final touches on her makeup. It was Labor Day, but real estate recognized very few holidays, and she’d spent too many weeks out of pocket already. There was work to be done. Money to be made. “Hello? Emily? You there?”
“Yes, sorry. I had to…”
But Melissa didn’t hear her. Not really. Most times, she was barely aware of Emily Arya. Emily was that kind of a female—the easily ignored kind. She was a good teacher. Melissa was sure enough of that to have ensured that Danny was in her class this fall. And Melissa admired anyone who actually enjoyed being around little kids all day.
But Emily had said something fairly shocking, so Melissa blinked fast to dry her mascara then picked up the phone and took it back into the bedroom with her so she could find the shoes she wanted for today. Pressing the Bluetooth earpiece farther into her ear canal, she surveyed the footwear options on the long shelf in the walk-in closet Ryan had designed for her. Once she located the wedge sandals with open toes she’d been thinking about, she slipped her feet into them and sat a moment on the leather chair near the bedroom window. “Well? Are you? Serious?”
“As a heart attack. And I’d know.”
Melissa chuckled. Emily could be funny, in her wry, quiet way. “Well, I have to say, I’m surprised. I mean, we all know that Allen isn’t keen on it. He’s obviously intimidated by Michael.”
“Or he’s a racist.”
“Of course he’s a racist. Shit, Ryan’s a racist mick if ever there was one. But he’s pretty keen to have little miss pretty buns in on the fun. You know?”
The was a beat of silence on the other end of the line. Melissa only noticed it when it stretched into a second minute. She was preoccupied, trying to gather all her crap together anyway. She passed by Danny, who was curled up on his usual end of the couch diddling away with his iPad. Of Ryan there was no sign, which irritated her. He knew she had appointments today. He’d said he’d stick around and hang out with Danny.
“Mama, do you have my Lunchables ready for tomorrow?”
Melissa sighed. Danny and his damn Lunchables. But getting mad didn’t help. Besides, in a way, she was pretty damn obsessed with routines herself.
She knew better than to make what was wrong with Danny into something as routine as an exaggeration of her own simple compulsion to have a specific salad with a certain kind of dressing on the side every day at twelve thirty. She’d been warned by enough doctors not to do that. Danny’s issues were deeper, more complex, and required way more patience. It was that, sometimes, her patience was stretched so thin by recalcitrant sellers or buyers with decision-making syndrome she had nothing left.
But there was no excuse to be bitchy this morning. She’d had three weeks of lake vacation, plus a reasonably pleasant return to the cul-de-sac status quo two nights ago.
A smile snuck across her face at the memory. It had been a real free-for-all. Something they’d never actually done in a group, or as a group, or whatever you wanted to call it. She’d enjoyed her time with Allen, as usual, but with the added bonus of Barrett, before she’d turned to find Sai watching from across the room. A shiver snuck down her spine.
Damn, but it had been wild.
And now they were going to add this couple, Amelia and Michael Ross? Really? She’d been ready to say no if it came to some kind of a vote. Then again, it wasn’t a democracy. It was the Janice and Allen Show.
“Emily? I’m gonna have to get to…”
“I don’t know if Sai and I…I mean, we…”
“I know, Emily. I feel that way sometimes, too. I mean, especially after this last...um...experience.”
“Right. It was kind of crazy. I don’t know. I mean, all this stuff with Laura. And you didn’t see Tom in that tub. I did. It was horrible.”
“I can only imagine.” Melissa’s pulse was racing. She needed this conversation to end. Now.
“I think that somehow, what we did, I mean, all those times we…”
Melissa rolled her eyes at the sound of Emily’s voice breaking. “I have to get to work, Emily. But to recap: We’re supposed to take Amelia out to lunch and ask her to, ah, join us in the, um, group?”
“That’s what Janice told me over coffee. She asked me to call you. She had to go do her volunteering. I need to get over to my classroom now, so I’m calling you, but I don’t know who’s calling Cassie.”
Melissa winced. Cassie had been as eager as any of them the other night, jumping right into the fray as it were, her baby bump sticking out like some kind of a bad omen. Of course, all she’d wanted was to mess around with Janice. Which suited everyone else, as a bit of a fluffer foreplay.
“So, we’re on a phone tree now?” Melissa was pissed Janice hadn’t told her first. She and Ryan had formed the original foursome after all. But Janice had something up her ass lately when it came to Allen and her. She needed to get over it. That didn’t stop the immature thrill of female friendship jealousy hitting her brain, making her skin hot all over.
“I guess,” Emily said. “I don’t know anymore, Melissa. The time we took off, those months, it was kind of normalizing.”
“And boring,” Melissa said, sharply. Too sharply. She was sick of her neighbor’s mealymouthed crap right now. Especially since she’d availed herself of Ryan’s talents the other night. Ryan liked her “softness” as he put it. The way she was so “pliant” and “sweet.”
Stop it, Melissa. You’re being childish.
“So, about this lunch…”
“Right. I’m going to call Amelia later today and invite her this coming Sunday to the country club for brunch. Just us girls, you know. Plenty of mimosas, gin and tonics, whatever. The guys are gonna take Michael golfing I think.”
Melissa sighed again. She had her purse on her shoulder. Her leather briefcase was at her feet. She needed to get the hell out of here. To work. To put this behind her. She hadn’t realized how much this past year had been spent normalizing things. Letting go of the things they did together with their neighbors. Things that, on the face of it, were so completely sordid she had them neatly compartmentalized, tucked away in the inner recesses of her brain during the days she woke, rose, fed her son and husband, and went to work making money. A lot of money. While Ryan did the same.
On the other hand, they were all consenting adults. They’d made this arrangement over a lovely steak dinner and too many bottles of expensive Cabernet. They’d consummated it that very night. A night that would go down in Melissa’s memory as the most erotic, amazing, eye-opening experience of her life.
The Franks were the first to arrive. She’d met them, gotten a good feeling about them, introduced them to Janice then closed the deal on the house. Ryan’s company had more or less gutted it and put it back together to Laura’s specifications. Tom Franks was an accountant. They’d moved here when he got hired by a large firm in Detroit. But, after three years, he’d gone out on his own, opened an office in a restored building downtown here. And seemed to be doing very well, considering Laura didn’t work.
It had always struck her and Ryan as odd that they had top-of-the-line new Audis every other year. They went on fancy vacations all over the world with their kids. Laura had had plenty of surgical help to keep herself looking fresh, thanks to Allen’s practice. “I mean, seriously, how much can the guy make doing taxes for the yoga studios and restaurants?” Ryan asked her repeatedly, as if she would know.
They’d taken Tom up on his offer to take a look at their situation, which was triple complicated since Ryan had an LLC and she worked on 100 percent commission. Once he’d figured out what a genius Tom was with tax shelters and whatnot, Ryan had stopped complaining about him. And she’d forgotten about it altogether. As long as she didn’t have to write a big-ass check in April to cover her tax bill, she was fine with whatever Tom and Ryan did with the money.
“Sunday brunch with the neighbor ladies, huh?” Melissa picked up her bag and glanced around, trying to figure out where in the hell Ryan was hiding himself. “All right, fine. I’m in.”
“But what are we going to say to her?”
“Not sure. But I am sure we can follow Janice’s lead. She’s the boss lady in all of this after all.”
“Right. Sure. Okay.”
“You don’t sound too convinced.”
“I’m not. I told you already, Sai and I are probably going to, um, stop. You know.”
“Well, it’s a free country.” Melissa would miss Sai. He had an amazing cock, truly. Even Ryan was impressed by it. They always paired off in the same room and had spent several pleasant hours with the Ayras. The one time she let Ryan play outside of her line of sight in the early days after they’d added the Franks into their mix, she’d been so jealous she’d almost given him a concussion later in a knock-down-drag-out fight that had ended with Ryan in the emergency room, telling the doctor that he’d fallen off the ladder at a job site earlier that day and her in hysterical tears at his bedside while they kept him overnight for observation.
“I haven’t made up my mind yet. Not really. I mean, don’t you ever feel, I don’t know, weird about all of this? Isn’t it kind of...sick and wrong?”
“No, I don’t ever think that, Emily,” she lied. “I really have to go to work.”
“Okay. Sorry.”
Melissa felt guilty within a fraction of a second. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to snap or cut you off. I’m kind of busy. But I’m so thrilled Danny’s going to be in your classroom this year. He’s a handful. As you already know.”
“I love Danny. He’s a wonderful boy.” The sincerity in Emily’s voice, which had switched into teacher mode, relieved Melissa. She looked over at her son, his nose so close to the screen it lit his face up with a weird, sickly blue glow. “We’re going to be fine.”
“He has his educational plan already set. And gets therapy twice a week.”
“I know. I’m ready for him. I’m really looking forward to it. You’ll see. He’s going to love school this year.”
“God. I hope so. Listen, I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Excerpt #2:
Amelia’s phone buzzed, interrupting her favorite Spotify playlist. The unobtrusive Siri voice told her she had a call from a number that was not one she immediately recognized. When asked if she wanted to take the call, she told Siri she did, then turned the volume up on her wireless earbuds. “Hello?”
“Hi! Amelia? This is Emily. Your neighbor.”
“Oh hi,” Amelia said, trying to recall what Emily looked like. She was easily the most forgettable of the women she’d met these past few weeks and at the party. Melissa she knew well, based on the time they’d spent together as Realtor and client. Janice was the attractively preserved older woman at the end of the cul-de-sac. A sort of matriarch for the group who’d hosted the party. Cassie was the gorgeous young woman with the bright-blue eyes who was pregnant and seemingly not too happy about it. Emily…which one was she?
“So, I was wondering if you’d like to come out to brunch with us.”
“Oh um…” She was preparing to beg off, not willing to change her plans for the next forty-eight or so hours. She’d been walking around feeling like a giant exposed horny nerve ever since she’d let Michael fuck her on the kitchen table earlier that day. She wanted more. A lot more. And she was about to get it.
“I mean, um, next weekend. While the boys are golfing?”
Amelia blinked then realized what she was talking about. The “boys” had invited Michael to golf. And she was going to lunch with the ladies. Part of her bristled at this. Why couldn’t they be in on the golfing? But she hated golf. So why not?
“Sure, that sounds like fun. Where?”
“Oh, at the club. I figured you guys had already joined.”
“No, not yet.” To be honest, she’d avoided it, although she knew they should do it. She’d done her research. And her mother had, too. They’d decided that Forest Hills Golf and Swim Club was the best one to join. And she liked to believe that the fact of her husband’s skin color wouldn’t matter in this enlightened, Midwest college town. But part of her wasn’t certain about that, and she was reluctant to put Michael through it. Perhaps going to a day at golf and lunch would ease their entry a bit. “But we have every intention of it.”
“Any of us can sponsor you. They still require that. It’s so...colonial, don’t you think?”
Amelia hesitated, wondering if Emily would realize the awkwardness of that question. She picked up her pace, nervous and yet somehow pissed off at the same time.
“Well, anyway,” the woman went on, not realizing it, apparently. “Why don’t you ride with me? The guys usually all carpool to their golf days.”
“Sure, sounds good.” She didn’t want to go now. In fact, all of a sudden, if she never saw or spoke to any of her immediate neighbors ever again, she’d not mind it one bit.
She shook her head at this ridiculous thought. One of the reasons she’d chosen this street was for the social opportunities. She was being paranoid. Her neighbors were just…a little enthusiastic and, well, touchy, when it came down to it. The memory of the women surrounding Michael, leaning in, hands on his thighs and arms as he sat in the midst of them like some kind of a sultan among his harem wafted through her brain. Even as she recalled the way she’d been the center of the male attention most of the night. How attractive they all were, those men, from brash contractor Ryan to soft-spoken, exotic-looking Sai, to the two older men, Barrett and Allen. All of them were rich, handsome, fit to the point of model-perfect. And they’d been all over her.
She stopped in her tracks, recalling something else from that night she must have been suppressing as a figment of her imagination, or something her drunken brain had conjured. The large bedroom window on the second floor of the Coopers’ house. The light, the shadows she’d taken for Janice and Allen at first in an embrace. Then the other shadows that joined them. The other people who’d been in that room and...and…
That is crazy, Amelia Elizabeth. Stop it. You’re pent up and horny and are taking care of all of that within hours. Get a damn grip on yourself. These people are inviting you and Michael to a snooty country club that has likely only recently allowed black people to be members. Keep things in perspective.
“Amelia? You still there?”
“Yes, sorry. I’d be happy to join you all. Looking forward to it.”
“Great! Super. We’ll...um…” There was a beat of silence that made Amelia uncomfortable again. “Anyway, if you need any tomatoes, you should stop by this week.”
“Tomatoes,” Amelia said, confused by the shift of topic.
“Yes. Between my garden and Cassie’s, we’re overflowing with them. There’s only so much sauce and salsa I can make. Talk soon!” She hung up before Amelia could say anything else.
Excerpt #3
The bottom line was, she and her fabulous husband were still in the negative column when it came to sex. Something her post-pregnancy mind and body was clamoring for all of a sudden. More importantly, she knew her man needed it from her.
The press of the side of his body against hers as he held Tyler in his other arm and she clutched the diaper bag, was driving her mad. What she wanted to do was to feed Tyler a few bites of her homemade baby food—she didn’t trust that nasty processed crap—give him a bath, and tuck him into his new big-boy bed. This whole party thing was messing with his established schedule. It would be simple, really. She could wander over for a few minutes while Michael gave the boy his bath, send her regards, explain the problem—her toddler son and his rigidity was making everyone nuts. Michael was exhausted after his grueling travel and work schedule. That sort of thing.
Then she’d wander back over and meet Michael in their new bedroom. That was what she wanted right now. Not to meet a bunch of intimidating strangers.
“Sim!” Tyler yelped again. “Da! Ty sim! Want sim!” He had his father’s face between his hands. Amelia felt a rush of pride at the fact that her son was speaking in short sentences already. It was the breast milk, she knew. And the way they communicated with him—in full, adult sentences, not baby talk.
“You know it, buddy,” Michael said. He kissed Tyler’s cheek then Amelia’s hair. “This is gonna be awesome. Cool neighbors. One of them with a pool? We scored. Thanks to your Mommy, Ty.”
“Ma!” Tyler reached over and patted her cheek. “Love Ma!”
“Yep. I love your ma, too, my man.” Michael’s hand dropped to her ass and gripped hard. “I miss her,” he whispered into her hair.
“Not long now, Michael,” she said, her lips pressed to his firm chest, meaning it more than she’d ever meant anything. This whole parenting gig wasn’t quite what she’d imagined, at least when it came to her body and how it would remain hijacked well beyond giving birth.
“I love you, Ames,” he said.
She looked up at him, met his gaze fully, ignoring Tyler’s incessant clamoring for their mutual attention. “I love you, Michael. I adore you. And I’m going to make this up to you, soon.”
“It’s okay, honey,” he said, pressing his lips to hers while Tyler wiggled and hollered about swimming and the pool. “I understand.”
Her entire body filled with the sort of pleasant satisfaction she hadn’t felt in a while. This was why she’d married him. He was, on many levels, such an amazing man. “I know you do. But I need you. I’m ready,” she insisted.
She knew full well that getting him worked up before they headed into a social situation would make the party that much more interesting for them both. Role-playing was something else he’d introduced her to, something else she never in a zillion years thought she’d enjoy doing, sexually speaking. She went up on her tiptoes and bit his lower lip.
“Agreed,” he said, his voice dipping lower in that way it did when he was turned on. It made her warm all over. “Short and sweet.”
“Da!” Tyler tried to grab Michael’s face again and tug it around to get his attention. “Sim!”
“Wait, Ty. Dad’s busy right now.” He grinned down at her, cupped her cheek with his hand. “Soon, baby.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “Very soon.”
All right, son,” Michael said, shifting Tyler higher on his hip. “You ready to meet some new friends?”
“Sim!” the kid hollered for the millionth time.
“Right. That,” Michael said. “What about you, Amelia? You ready to meet our new neighbors?”
She squared her shoulders. Her parents had excellent relationships with their neighbors. The way everyone flowed from one house to the next, stopping by for coffee early, booze later, had made an impression on her. She wanted that same experience. To feel like her house was merely an extension of a bigger ecosystem—a block, a street, or in her case, this amazing cul-de-sac she’d lucked into.
“Yes. I am. Let’s meet the neighbors.”
They made their way the short distance between their house and the Coopers’, who were hosting tonight’s shindig. It was almost five thirty, a full hour and a half past the official start of the party. But that was all right. They were the guests of honor, she’d been told. They should come when it was convenient for them, given the baby and all.
Amelia hesitated about halfway over. Something about the scene in front of her eyes—the couples arrayed around the pool in varying stages of drinking, eating, laughing, talking—made her uncomfortable. She froze and tugged on Michael’s arm, willing him to go back to their house, to their life, without all of this fuss.
“Amelia!”
She looked over to where the sound of her name had emerged from the din of partygoers. Janice, the hostess, and one of the three women including her real estate agent who’d shown up at her door this past week with cookies, brownies, and in the case of the pregnant one, gluten-free lemon bars. “We’re happy you’re here.”
She’d been embarrassed that Tyler had refused to emerge from his room during these neighborly stopovers. But she hadn’t forced him out. That would only make him more resentful. None of the women had minded when she’d said he was “napping.” They’d be getting their fill of him soon enough.
Janice stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Michael. Amelia grinned to herself. It wasn’t anything new. Her husband was striking at first glance and only got better looking the more you got to know him. Her grin faded when something about the way Janice took her husband in, the way her gaze raked him from head to toe seemed blatant, borderline rude.
Then her new neighbor rallied. She smiled. Reached for Michael’s outstretched hand. Shook it. Touched Tyler’s hair with a more genuine grin. “Do you like to swim, Tyler? We have some floaties, if you want them. My grandboys would love some company.” She glanced back at Amelia, and something about that look made her feel as if she’d been forgotten in the last few seconds. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation but one she chalked up to her nervousness and aggravation at having to be here, and not in bed with her husband.
Tyler wiggled out of Michael’s arms and made a beeline for the patio. She started after him, terrified by the fact of the pool and of her little boy falling right in headfirst. Michael gripped her arm.
“It’s okay, Ames, I see him.”
She tensed under his touch. Janice’s smile became something resembling benevolent. A sort of Oh, how cute the adorable couple is feuding over helicoptering.
Before Amelia could react, a tall, handsome, older man, slid inflatable bands onto Tyler’s arms. She lurched forward when the man led her son to the edge of the pool. Michael held her back. “He’s fine, Ames. Relax.”
“But…he…he’s not wearing his swimsuit.” And like that, he was in the pool, wearing the borrowed floaties and in nothing but his diaper, laughing and splashing with the other kids. A youngish woman in a modest one-piece suit got in and stood next to him then waved over at them. “Oh.” She forced herself to relax.
Janice took her elbow. “That’s Suzanne. She’s my grandsons’ nanny. He’s in good hands.” Come on, honey. People are dying to meet y’all.” Her soft Southern accent was out of place enough to be comical. Amelia stared at her, nerves shredded from the past days’ worth of stress.
“Okay,” she said, glancing back at her husband, her rock, her anchor. He smiled at her then turned to face an attractive blonde woman who’d appeared at his other side, her gaze as eager as Janice’s had been.
It was all a bit too weird, or maybe the word was surreal. But Amelia let herself be carried along, passed from group to group, from one set of admiring eyes to the next. She ate ribs, kale salad, some kind of quinoa thing, and plenty of fresh fruit. Once she’d declared that she wanted wine, a glass was pressed into her hand and never allowed to empty.
At several points, she heard Tyler yelping, laughing, hollering. But he never seemed to need her.
At another point, she sought Michael’s face. She could always locate it. But it seemed to get farther and farther away from her as the night went on and she got steadily drunker. Irresponsible, as a mother. She’d have to pump her breasts and dump out the poisoned milk. Give Tyler a sippy cup of thawed breast milk from the freezer.
But it was all right. These were the nicest people. Friendly, and eager to put her at ease.
She smiled at her host, Allen Cooper, who’d barely left her side all evening. “This is a great neighborhood,” she said, hearing herself slur.
He grinned at her. She squinted through her increasing booze fog. Gosh, he sure was a good-looking older guy. At one point, she’d swear someone touched her ass, cupping it gently, making her glance over her shoulder, expecting to see Michael but seeing Allen instead. She’d gasped, flinched, and moved out of his reach. “Sorry,” she said for some reason as a bolt of something like dread hit her brain. “I should go. We should go. I’m…I’ve had way too much to drink.”
She needed Michael. Something was off about this whole thing and she wanted her husband by her side. Now.
“You all right, Amelia?” Janice appeared at her elbow with a bottle of water.
“I’m…yes. I’m fine.” She grabbed the water and gulped it down. This had to be the oddest barbecue she’d ever attended. “I’ve had a bit too much to drink though.”
Janice patted her arm. Handsome silver fox Allen was on her other side. She blinked fast. “Where’s my husband? Where’s Tyler?”
“They are right here, sweetie,” Janice said, stepping aside to reveal them both. Tyler was sound asleep on Michael’s shoulder, thumb in his mouth. Amelia exhaled in relief.
“Oh okay, thank you. Thank you both.” She turned to smile at Allen then over at Janice. All of a sudden, she was surrounded by the people she either already knew or had met tonight. Melissa the real estate agent, and her handsome husband Ryan. The Aryas. The LeBlancs—the wife, Cassie, resting her hand on her baby bump and looking serene.
Exhaustion stole over her. Michael pulled her close. “This was amazing,” he said to the gathered group, which at that moment resembled a den of wolves licking their chops at the sight of fresh meat. They were all…staring at her, at Michael, sizing them up. But why? For what?
She glanced up at her husband when he spoke again. Jesus, she was sloshed. For the first time since she’d gotten pregnant. “Thank you,” Michael was saying. His body was relaxed. His smile legit. “This is going to be better than we ever thought it would be.”
An odd thing to say. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to be away from this…this wolf pack. Wanted to be back in her house, their house. She slumped into him, trying and failing to ignore the way every single set of female eyes locked onto Michael as he spoke.
“Let’s go,” she said under her breath. “Michael,” she said, louder.
“Better get my wife home,” he said. “Good night, all. Thanks Janice and Allen, for hosting us.” He tightened his grip on her arm.
************
INTERVIEW WITH THE AUTHOR - Q&A
On writing:
In your book Cul-de-Sac, you imply that polyamorous relationships are unsustainable. Why is that?
In my research for this book and its complicated set of relationships, I read a lot about how humans are supposedly, somehow, wired for non-monogamy—that polyamory is more in keeping with how our biology would demand of us. I get that on a certain level. But it was more fun to me to explore how certain types of people might think they wanted that lifestyle, but how after these people explored it and satisfied their curiosity about it, the also-very-human condition of jealousy would begin to overtake them.
What is a favorite compliment you have received on your writing?
From my romance-heavy backlist I was told a lot that my characters were so “real,” and sometimes even “too real,” and I always took that as a compliment. For this book I hoped to show five different couples on five different journeys who happened to collide in a certain way and who all learned different lessons from the experience. And the reviews I’m getting are gratifying when it comes to the realism of my characters and their reactions to certain situations. Oh, and I’m super stoked that pretty much no one guessed the ending of this book!
There are many domestic suspense books out there....What makes yours different?
Oh wow, that’s a hard truth, isn’t it?!
I think that Cul-de-Sac blends a ton of what I learned from my last decade plus as a romance author about human relationships, along with my desire to throw serious, real-life roadblock at characters and show how they work themselves out of them (or not, as the case may be). I adore writing romances because relationships are what drive stories for me but what’s different about this, as a “domestic suspense” is that there are a whole BUNCH of relationships all intertwined and one of the characters involved ends up dead—so everyone is either finger pointing or soul-searching until the true reason is revealed. It’s a character study, with a murder at its core. And a real twist for an ending!
Which was the hardest character to write? The easiest?
I had a blast with all of these characters. There are five different couples all with different sets of motivations and drivers. I made every attempt to get deep into every single character’s POV at least once to show how or why they might be the reason that one of them died—and not by suicide as it’s explained away at first. Because I could create more than one, I really was able to show different types of marriages/origin stories and their different paths that brought them to the complicated relationship they all share.
What is your next project?
I believe that I’ve reached the point in my career where I’m going to be a lot more choosier and careful about the projects that I commit to. I’ve had years where I’ve written and published a book a month (I don’t necessarily recommend this but I did learn a lot by doing it), and I’ve gone a year or two without a focused project. I’m settling into a groove and have my next 3 years’ worth of books planned. Next year, it’s a rom com that has turned into an exciting collaboration with some brands in Louisville, KY, a place where I lived many years and attended college and that holds a special place in my heart. It’s a “Ted Lasso” inspired story about a fictional pro football team, that combines fun aspects of a “Ted and Rebecca” dynamic but includes real locations and products, and an attempt to keep a lagging sports brand above the surface using gimmicks and stuff that actually become viral sensations. I plan to release this book in late June 2025.
My next THRILLER will be released in 2026!
How long have you been writing?
I didn’t start writing fiction until about 2008, and my first book (such as it was and you should be thankful you weren’t subject to it, lol) was published in 2010. I have always been a reader, and my family likes to remind me that even when I was forced to weed a garden as a teenager I had a book with me.
On rituals:
Do you write every day?
If I’m deep into a project, I do. I used to let myself get drawn in too deep so that other aspects of my life suffered. I’m better about that now, and when I’ve gotten other work done I’ll look at the clock and say “now, write for an hour” or two or whatever so I know it’s healthy to take breaks. There is so much to being an indie author, you really have to give yourself the grace to spend some days on promotions or other tasks and not berate your inner muse too hard!
Is there a specific ritualistic thing you do during your writing time?
LOL I eat. And by “eat” I mean I stick food in my mouth and then am surprised/shocked when I come up for air and see that I’m surrounded by empty chip bags or whatever. I’ve never been able to break myself of that, unfortunately so now I try** to only keep boring stuff like grapes, carrot sticks or blueberries around. I still sort of blind eat while I’m writing but at least it’s a little bit healthier.
**not always successfully
Fun Stuff:
Favorite travel spot?
I am lucky in that I got to live overseas for several years, in 3 distinctly different and amazing countries (Memoir is on the horizon!). Because of that, I have to say that Turkey is definitely up there. We lived in Istanbul for 2 years and tried to use our time there to be tourists on occasion. Being an expat does not equal non-stop tourism but we tried to take advantage of our various locations to see places we would not otherwise get to. And because of this, I’d say my favorite place is a resort on the coast of Turkey where the Aegean and the Mediterranean seas meet. It was a family-oriented place since we had 3 small children but we hope to get back there in the next year or two to enjoy it sans kiddos.
What’s the funniest thing that ever happened to you? The scariest? The strangest?
Ok, another Turkey story because my experience getting arrested by the Turkish Gendarme during my last week living there would fill all three of these categories….It was a mix up but it was funny (later), scary and strange all at once.
What TV series are you currently binge watching?
I am on my fourth rewatch of Ted Lasso, but the newest one I’m watching is based on a book I read years ago by Blake Crouch called Dark Matter. I am looking forward to The Bear, season three!
What song is currently playing on a loop in your head?
I’m more than a tad obsessed with Eminem’s new songs and can totes identify with all the TikToks showing us Gen Z-ers being all “yeah we told you he was the bomb.” Also, since I watched him perform during the celebration of the reopening of Central Station in Detroit (I lived in SE Mich for 18 years, longer than I’ve lived anywhere), I’ve got his new song that samples Steve Miller Band’s Abracadabra on a loop in my head, in a good way.
Tell us about your longest friendship.
My longest running friendship is with a woman who was one of my college roommates. She still lives back in Louisville (one of my favorite places in the world), with her family, retired from working at our alma mater, the University of Louisville, and now is an educational business consultant. We travel together, and text each other our NYT puzzle results pretty much every day. She visited us in Turkey and when we lived in England. She’s a total inspiration to me, for a lot of reasons and I treasure our friendship.
What’s the most courageous thing you’ve ever done?
I’d also call this the dumbest thing I ever did and that was to abandon my perfectly good career as a real estate agent to help some men open a successful brewery. It was a success, and I am happy to take credit for a lot of that success but it was a mistake to trust them and I regret it. I have mined the heck out of my experience as a woman in the (still very much a) man’s “world” of beer for stories, and I have made some friends I will keep forever thanks to it. It took a lot of guts for me to do it, but it’s one of those things that keeps me up nights because of how gullible I was for trusting them.
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GUEST POST:
My first domestic thriller/suspense is out and one question I get asked a fair bit is about my genre switch. I have 30+ romance novels published, everything from first person rom coms to seriously steamy contemporaries. I’ve been writing these since 2008, with my first one published in 2011. I’m actually currently working on a new romcom, something of a Ted Lasso style, sports-based, fish-out-of-water story that I will release as a collaboration with some fun products in Summer, 2025.
So, why the switch?
Well, in my experience, writing romance novels is the ultimate primer in writing about relationships, with an in-depth point of view (POV). What I found as I continued to write and be published in this genre is that I LOVED exploring relationships—of all sorts—not just the romantic ones. Of course, those were the focus of the book(s) but a quick look at my backlist (and reviews) will show you that I love nothing more than a juicy side character who’s begging me for his or her full story. I relish exploring all the relationship dynamics in my books: the main characters don’t live in a vacuum, after all. They have family, friends, and work colleagues. They interact with them in different ways. And digging into those relationships is my favorite part of writing novels.
This book is a suspense novel, so it’s by definition “plot driven” instead of character driven. But because I am who I am as a creative person, I let the characters lead. The plot is deceptively simple. New neighbors move into a nice house they didn’t think they could afford. They have their own, unique, dynamic. They are introduced to the other four families living there, and learn that the house they bought was home to a man who died. It happens. But the reason he died is slowly spun out over the course of the novel by….you guessed it, the characters and their let’s call it “special relationship” they have with each other.
I had such a blast writing this book. It was a giant web of relationships, all intertwined in ways that are intimate, and yet not at the same time. Each couple has issues it’s dealing with that are different from the rest, but at the end of the day, they all took part in something….not great with regard to the Dead Guy.
I’ve decided that while I will definitely not stop writing romances, I’m going to continue to explore how my fascination with close, interpersonal relationships will drive other types of stories. I’m looking forward to where this will lead me. And I certainly hope you get a chance to enjoy Cul-de-Sac and the naughty neighbors of Connelly Court soon!
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Liz Crowe is a Kentucky native and graduate of the University of Louisville living in South Carolina.
She's spent her time as a three-continent expat trailing spouse, mom of three, real estate agent, brewery owner and bar manager, and is currently a digital marketing and fundraising consultant, in addition to being an award-winning author.
The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.
Her favorite things to do when she’s not scrolling social media for cute animal videos is walk her dogs, cuddle her cats, and watch her favorite sports teams while scrolling social media for cute animal videos.
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FOLLOW ON SOCIAL MEDIA:Website: https://lizcrowe.com/
Facebook: @lizcroweauthor
Instagram: @lizcroweauthor
Twitter: @Bookgal
Instagram: @therealbookgal
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