Shattered Secrets (Book of Red #1) (49 page)

First, and absolutely most important, I must thank my daughter. Without the real life Abigail Nicole, I wouldn’t have been able to form this stubborn girl from Virginia. We all love our children, but I have never met a more wonderful person so willing to please, so willing to help her parents, to offer
them
support, encouraging words, and to know exactly what to do in stressful situations. Sometimes I think she is more grown up than her father and me. I love you, Abby, more than you will ever know. Don’t ever change. Ever.

I also need to thank my beta readers, Susie Levine and Danielle Cornwell, because you read the early versions of my work, the middle versions, the
I-swear-this-is-it
versions, and the
no-really-it’s-finished
versions. And you never complain—to my face. You offer support even when you know my writer-ego is at its lowest, when I’m still raw and vulnerable from writing the novel.

I have to thank Jessa Russo for editing her editor without fear, for telling me what you really think, for chatting with me about plots, characters. You convinced me to submit my work to contests and agents, to push myself harder than I ever would myself. You don’t let me back off. You don’t let me give up.

And Kay Froebel. Poor, poor Kay. You edit, critique, beta, and then listen to me whine through official edits and proofreads. You really deserve a medal, maybe a cookie, for all the crap I’ve put you through. I’m always afraid you will one day tell me to get a life—please don’t! Keep telling me what you really think, even if I throw fits and cringe when you’re not looking.

I can’t go without mentioning Marisa Cleveland for giving me a chance, pushing me to join clubs, travel to different events. And, of course, thank you to the great folks over at Curiosity Quills who’ve allowed me to learn and grow right alongside them. Michelle Johnson, you are the best cover artist on the planet.

And we all have to thank my family. They give me the time and space I need to write, take up the laundry when I slack off, and don’t yell at me when I forget to vacuum a couple weeks in a row—hey, that character will scream at me if I walk away!

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Krystal Wade
is happily married to the love of her life (don’t gag) and raising three beautiful children in the gorgeous state of Virginia. They live just outside Washington, D.C., and every day she wakes up to find herself stuck in traffic trying to get there.

The horrid commute gives Krystal plenty of time to zone out and think about her characters in full, brilliant details (she’s a safe driver; don’t worry). Stories give her a way to forget about the sometimes smelly strangers sitting next to her on the fifty mile trek into town (she picks up hitchhikers every day. True story. Check out
www.slug-lines.com
if you don’t believe us).

Krystal has been a part of organized hitchhiking for nearly fifteen years, but that’s just one small aspect of her oh-so-large life. When she’s not working, commuting, or chasing after her three children (four if you count the man), you can usually find Krystal outside talking to her chickens like they’re the cutest things in the world (they are), or training her amazing dogs how to herd said chickens (which they love), or curled up on the sofa with a good book (why can’t that be 100% of the time?).