Sharon's INSPIRATIONAL Short stories of Faith and Romance can be found HERE or visit her
Facebook Page, which also has the links in the comments.)

Monday, May 30, 2011


Happy Memorial Day!
Reflecting on life as I enjoy doing, holidays often take me back to my childhood. When I was a little girl growing up, my parents and those in their generation referred to Memorial Day as Decoration Day.  Opposed to huge barbeques, the opening of swimming pools and blow-out patio summer sales, things associated with Memorial Day, we always took a ride to the cemetery to decorate the graves of loved ones.

I remember planting flowers and placing wreaths on the tombs of the dearly departed. To honor those who had served in the military, small flags on sticks billowed in the breeze over their headstones.  There always seemed to be a dark cloud lurking in the sky that day, including a few raindrops and unseasonably cool temperatures. Somewhere over the decades, the last Monday in May turned into a holiday to welcome summer. Don’t get me wrong, I love barbeques and am partaking in one today with all the trimmings. While we no longer decorate the graves, our American flag billows in the breeze every day to salute our country.

Does anyone remember Decoration Day?

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Character Interview Scavenger Hunt

Hello and welcome to one of the character interviews in the scavenger hunt! For a chance to win a signed copy of
Please answer the question at the end of the interview.

I am chatting with the chilling villain and serial killer of Mask of the Betrayer, a psychological thriller set in Red Rock Canyon, Nevada. So grab a seat and make yourself comfortable. The man I am about to interview is devastatingly handsome, a silver tongue devil. He has brilliant blue eyes that could melt butter, black wavy hair framing the face of a fallen angel and is 180 pounds of raw, sexual energy. He is also a demented sociopath that will kill without blinking an eye. With no further ado, here is Michael DeVeccio.

With the raw beauty of the Red Rock Canyon as the backdrop, Michael presents Sharon with a bouquet of yellow roses.

In a gesture as old as time, she brings the roses up to her nose and takes in their sweet essence. She smiles demurely. “Yellow roses are my favorite flower. However did you know?”

Michael smiles. “I make it a point to find out the important things in my life.” Brushing her lips with a feathery kiss, he adds, “And, you, Darling Sharon, are very important to me.”

An explosion could not have moved her more than his tender kiss. Between his lips touching hers and the sound of his husky voice, she feels warm and overheated. Fussing with the cellophane wrap around the roses, she sniffs the flowers once more. “I’ll just have my butler put these in some water.”

Oliver appears, casually dressed in a black t-shirt and low rider jeans. Taking the flowers, he raises an eyebrow. “Sure thing, boss lady. Might I offer cocktails and hors d’oeuvres”

“Thank you, Oliver. That would be lovely. The usual for me, a nicely chilled glass of chardonnay. And I think a platter of artisan cheeses might fit the occasion.”

Michael takes a seat on a Queen Anne wing back chair. “Thank you. A bourbon on the rocks would hit the spot. Mind if I smoke?”

“Not at all,” Sharon responds, taking a seat opposite Michael. She gestures to the ashtray on the white marble coffee table in front of them. “Knock yourself out.”

Oliver scuffs in, a sterling silver tray balanced above his head. Casting Michael the evil eye, he sets down the drinks and a platter of wafer thin crackers, assorted cheeses of asiago, bleu, gorgonzola and gouda. Plump amber and ruby red grapes center the platter.

Sharon nods her approval. “Thank you, Oliver, that will be all. Shall we get started, Michael?”

Michael taps his Marlboro on the table three times before lighting it. Taking a drag, he stares into Sharon’s eyes, his searing gaze scorching hot. “What would you like to know?”

Mesmerized by his hypnotic blue eyes, Sharon stammers. “Ah, you’ve been getting away with murder for years. How so?”

Never taking his eyes off Sharon, Michael sips his bourbon. “Simply speaking, no one in this world can outwit, out play, or out maneuver Michael DeVeccio. I am and always will be king of the world.”

Sharon: “You were born in a small fishing port in Tuscany, living a simple and somewhat sheltered life with loving parents. But when you were twelve years old, something traumatized you, turning your whole world upside down. Tell us about that.”

Michael’s eyes grow misty. “My parents’ car went over the steepest cliff in Tuscany early one bright and sunny May morning. It’s a day I’ll never forget as long as I live. Their car crashed over the mountainside and burst into flames before it ever hit the ground. Mama and Papa were killed instantly. It was the day my life in that fishing port came to a screeching halt. My parents were dead and my world as I knew it was over. It was such a shock, such a brutal shock. I went into a deep depression and barely remember the funeral.”

Clutching her heart, Sharon gasps, “What, pray tell, could have caused a sweet blue-eyed boy with good morals to grow up to become one of the decade’s most cold-blooded killers?”

Michael smiles a beguiling smile. “In a nutshell, Carlos DeVeccio happened. He was my father’s brother, and after my parent’s death, he raised me in his likeness, training me to take over the DeVeccio Empire, a billion dollar construction company that built luxury resorts all over the world. A master manipulator, my uncle trained me to kill the betrayer from the time I was twelve years old.”

Turning ash, Sharon hurriedly drains her cocktail. “How so?”

Blowing a perfect smoke ring into the air, Michael crosses one long leg over the other and grins. “By deprogramming the morals my parents had instilled in me.” His jack-be-nimble fingers pull a mini CD player from the pocket of his navy pin striped jacket. He presses a button and the music plays. “This song played in hidden speakers all over the mansion, over and over again like a broken record.”
A hunting we will go, a hunting we will go. We’ll catch a fox and put him in a box. High ho the dairy-o, a hunting we will go.

Appalled, Sharon stares in disbelief. “Hearing that programmed you to kill? That’s how your uncle brainwashed you?”

Bringing his drink to his lips, Michael watches Sharon over the rim of the glass. “Once the hunting song got in my blood and I started thinking of myself as an action figure in an action movie, killing became a sport.”

“You enjoyed killing?”

Walking to the bar, Michael freshens their cocktails, his brilliant blue eyes blazing as bright as a sorcerer’s flame. “Eventually. I wanted what my uncle had.”

“And what was that?”

“Absolute power. “So that’s my life story in a nut shell. A poor fisherman’s son strikes it rich when tycoon uncle hands over the reigns of his billion dollar dynasty. I had it all living with Uncle Carlos--a mansion built for a king, the best educations in Ivy League colleges, fancy sports cars and more money than I knew what to do with. But there was a price to pay. Uncle Carlos ran his ship with an iron fist, demanding family loyalty and respect. He held meetings every Saturday in the great room, and under his tutelage, I learned how to become master of the game.”
Sharon gulps back her drink. “And yet you killed your uncle, slashed him in the throat, then covered his corpse with a death mask?”

“Of course I did.”


Michael stares at Sharon long and hard, as if dealing with a petulant child. “Uncle Carlos taught me well. Under his expert tutelage, I learned how to wield the death star into the throat of the betrayer and shroud the corpse in a death mask. It was poetic justice that I should do to him what he taught me to do. Carlos DeVeccio decided who had the right to live and die. But it turned out he was the biggest traitor of them all. My dear Uncle Carlos committed the ultimate sin and had to die by the sword. Placing the skull mask on his corpse was indeed sweet revenge.”

“Tell us, Michael, just what was the ultimate sin?”

Michael’s eyes narrow into steely slits. “Darling Sharon, I guess you’ll have to read the book, won’t you?”

“I most definitely will. How do you think your uncle would feel about you slaying him with a death star had he lived?”

Michael smiles, his brilliant blue eyes icy. “Uncle Carlos would have been proud. Under his expert tutelage, I learned how to lie, cheat, and kill. All for the sake of absolute power.”

Mask of the Betrayer
Book one in the Mask series
Filled with so many twists, turns and surprises, you’ll be hooked from the first chapter.
ISBN: 978-1-936167-06-7

What does Michael do before lighting a cigarette?

 How to enter
Blog readers who want to join the hunt MUST email Robyn White for a question sheet at

If you do not email Robyn for a question sheet, you will not be eligible to win prizes. It doesn't matter how many times you comment on blogs, if you do not email Robyn directly and receive a question sheet, you're out of luck. The hunt goes ALL MONTH so there is still
Plenty of time to join. Winners will be announced at end of month. Thank you and good luck!

Sharon Donovan
Romantic Suspense with a Twist of Faith