I really enjoyed writing The Avery Hart trilogy, and the whole story is still one of the ones I'm most proud of. Crafting three books to fit together in one overarching story had me flexing my writing muscles in ways I hadn't before, and I find myself beginning that process again with the first in a series I am currently writing. It's exciting to begin a story that's full of possibilities that mostly depend on what the characters decide to do.
Avery Hart is a character of mine that I relate to in many ways and getting to know her was like getting to know more of myself (and even gain a better understanding of those around me, because she was also modeled a bit on someone I'm close to). I wanted to share an excerpt that exemplifies who Avery is in my eyes, and even gives a hint as to how she acts/reacts through the trilogy. I wanted to share it with readers who've read the trilogy before, but also for those who are new to Lies Come True and Avery. I hope you enjoy this first impression (or memory).
Avery cracked into her fortune cookie over the table as the credits of her favourite TV show started to roll.
A muffled cry from the baby next door rang through the wall behind her and she turned the volume up to drown out the wails. She pulled the tiny piece of paper from the cookie bits, and the news came on as she unfolded her fortune.
"... at Birch Falls Park on Glenn, and Fourth Street, in Birch Falls, Ontario, less than three hours north of Toronto..." The reporter droned on, but Avery focused on reading the paper.
You will soon gain something you have always wanted.
Avery read it twice, set it down beside the broken cookie, and folded up the small box of left over veggie noodles.
"Peace and quiet?" She grumbled as she gathered the boxes, and took them to the kitchen fridge. "I doubt the Donovans are moving anytime soon."
As she made her way back to the living room, the baby cried again, as if to taunt her. She'd thought about tapping on the wall, writing them a letter, and even paying the Donovans a visit, but the simple fact was, babies cried. At all hours. She tried to sympathize with the parents, but when it came time for her early morning classes, she cursed them.
She grabbed the napkins from the table, and threw them in the garbage before she settled in on her soft couch again. When she looked at the TV, she did a double take. Her mouth hung agape as she focused on the picture beside the reporter.
"This man is considered armed and dangerous. Please contact the Crown River Regional Police with any information you may..." The segment was ending, and the picture disappeared from the screen, as a phone number crawled along the bottom.
That has to be wrong.
She stared at the screen, stunned, as they began to broadcast a different story. She thought about calling the news station, but they wouldn't have any more information, and she had already seen the sketch. That was the part that mattered. For a moment she thought about calling the number on the business card in her purse. The only one she carried. Instead, she sat still on the couch, and twisted her blonde hair around her finger.
What if she was wrong? What if she only imagined the picture was familiar? That's what Inspector Jacoby would tell her. She wondered why she hadn't torn up that business card after he gave it to her.
She thought about calling her parents, but they'd say the same thing as Jacoby.
Sadie might listen, might even believe her.
The feeling that glued her to the couch turned into something she recognized. She couldn't be sure what she saw. That's what they told her after all and that's what finally stuck after years of therapy.