Marianne Garver began life as the only child of simple peasant farmers in a remote village on the island of--
What do you mean I can't use that?
Well, I know it's not true. What's true got to do with anything? I'm a
writer -- a fiction writer. And fiction can be so much more interesting
than the truth, which you'll see if you'll just let me finish.
The truth is I was born in southern New Hampshire with no peasant farmers in sight (although my grandfather was known to keep a very nice vegetable garden). For as long as I can remember, I've loved books. Before I could read, my mother read to me. Nightly bedtime stores left me dreaming of setting sail with Scuppers "The Sailor Dog" and taught me valuable life lessons such as "Never Tease a Weasel." As I grew older I moved on to such classics as "Mud Pies and Other Recipes" (which still holds a treasured place on my bookshelf, although I find myself turning to it for recipes less and less as the years go by) and then the likes of Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden before discovering the world of science fiction which would become a preoccupation of my teen years.
I didn't begin writing myself until the age of twelve or thirteen and then only at the prompting of a pen pal who wanted to co-write a Star Trek story. At first it was in long-hand on notebook paper, but then one day my father brought home a portable Olivetti electric typewriter and I don't think my life was ever the same after that. I didn't even know how to type yet, but during the summer I would stay up until the wee hours of the morning, hunting and pecking away. I honestly believe it was my love for that typewriter more than any real career goal that led to my decision to become a secretary. It was a relief when I got to high school and took my first typing class so that my fingers could at least try to keep up with my imagination.
In the early eighties I headed south to get away from New England winters and ended up in Texas. It was there that a friend introduced me to the world of Silhouette romance novels. Her guilty pleasure became one of mine and soon grew into the guilty fantasy of writing one. That presented a bit of a problem, however, because all my ideas for romance stories lacked one particular element: men. Unfortunately, at that time I was living so far back in the closet I couldn't even see the crack of light around the door. Unaware of any market for lesbian romance novels, I tried to let the business of real life and a steady job drown out the voices of characters murmuring in my head. When they grew too loud to ignore, I attempted to pacify them by jotting down character sketches and outlining plots for the stories they suggested. I ended up with pages filled with notes, a chapter or two of this, five or six chapters of that, and a couple completed first drafts of stories so awful they will never see the light of day, all of which remained safely tucked in the back of a desk drawer.
During my years in Texas I found love, lost love, stumbled my way out of the closet, found and lost love yet again. In the fall of 1998, I treated myself to a two week tour of Ireland to take my mind off a broken heart, and it was there I met the love of my life. The Fates being kind, it turned out she lived only a few miles away from me in a neighboring town in Texas. The Fates also have a sense of humor, however, and crossed wires left each of us believing the other was otherwise romantically involved and unavailable. It was almost two years later before we re-connected and managed to squeeze in all of three dates and a Labor Day weekend Xena Marathon before renting the token U-haul to begin our happily ever after.
It was a couple years later while cleaning out my desk that I found and started flipping through the first few chapters of a story I'd begun but never finished. I was surprised to discover how much I still cared about the fictional people I'd created, and my own good fortune in the romance department had me feeling a little guilty for having left them hanging with no happy ending of their own. Fortunately, there's nothing like being in love to stimulate the imagination of a would-be romance writer, and so I'm pleased now to present October's Promise, the story of Quinn Barnett and Libby Jackson. I sincerely hope you enjoy getting to know Quinn and Libby as much as I did. Please feel free to contact me with any comments, as your feedback is always appreciated.
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