The premise of my newest psychological thriller, We Live Next Door, was partially inspired by a well-known app where local people can ask questions, share information, or express concerns about regional or neighborhood issues.

Fiction writers make stuff up. That’s our job. But writing a novel takes a lot of time and energy, and over the course of all those months plugging away at the word count, as life is happening, as our writer brains process events and emotions around us, real-life inspiration seeps in. Sometimes without us even realizing it.

My debut novel, Never Saw Me Coming, is very much a psychological thriller forged out of my desire to subvert readers’ expectations.

I have been a crime fiction fan for thirty years, since reading Thomas Harris’, The Silence of the Lambs, and my enthusiasm for thrillers dates back to Peter Benchley’s Jaws.

In August 2012, Winnie Johnson died, aged 78. She died never knowing where her twelve year old son, Keith Bennett, was buried, and her long held wish to give her son a proper burial was never fulfilled.

My husband and I were out for breakfast when the seed for my third novel was planted.