Sandra Dailey (Author Interview)
November 19, 2015
Please tell us a little about yourself, the romance subgenre(s) in which you write, and your newest book.
I’ve lived all over Florida for the last forty-plus years. Sand and salt water run through my veins, therefore, my stories all take place in this area. There’s no better place to be, in my opinion. My first two books were contemporary romance and then I moved to romantic suspense for the last two. My next one will be a mystery, then a paranormal, (fingers are crossed on those). My new release, CLOSE ENEMY, is the second suspense and companion book to COMMON ENEMY. However, each stands alone.
What inspired you to write romance fiction?
I can’t imagine any story without those most basic human emotions: attraction, desire, passion, and eventually love. Like my grandma always said – It’s what makes the world go around.
You have the chance to date either Mr. Darcy (from Pride & Prejudice) or Sherlock Holmes. Which one would you choose and why?
As a die-hard romantic I have to say Mr. Darcy. He’s such a patient and dignified man, but you know there’s overwhelming passion boiling inside that stiffly starched exterior.
Some people love them, some hate them. What’s your stance on alpha heroes?
I love an alpha. No woman wants to settle for mediocre. I don’t agree that a man has to be wealthy to be a hero. Some publishers actually require a billionaire, CEO, politician, or royalty. I require my heroes to have a big heart and protective nature. Being great looking is good, but let them be scarred in some way. It shows they’ve lived life on their own terms and taken risks.
Tell us about your favorite hero from one of your stories. What do you love about him?
A writer’s heroes are like her kids. You love them all, but it’s the one in your face who gets your attention. My current favorite is Caleb McCrae from CLOSE ENEMY. Despite his personal torment he pushes forward to do the right thing.
Sandra Dailey lives with her husband and mother in a small town in North Florida, far from the maddening crowds. Her children and grandchildren all live close and keep her ridiculously busy and active. Her passions are reading, writing, and crafts. Her addictions are coffee, chocolate, and football. Her aversions are cooking, housework and negative people. She loves to hear from fellow readers and writers.
Caleb McCrae is a powerful man with a broken soul. In six years, Leah was the only person to help him forget the painful memories, but only for one night. Now she seems to have disappeared. A mysterious letter arrives, and she’s in trouble…in more ways than one.
Leah Fletcher’s life is complicated. To care for her drug and alcohol addicted mother she works at a sleazy men’s club…until she finds out she’s pregnant and is framed for a crime that lands her in jail. When a stranger visits, she learns her troubles have just begun.
Bogdan Petrov has waited eleven years to get back the money Leah’s father stole from him. Despite her denials, he knows she’s hiding it. He’s arranged to infiltrate every part of her life until he gets what he wants, but soon realizes that an unknown person is doing the same to him.
Caleb sat in a plastic chair in front of a glass window with a telephone mounted on each side at his right. The chair across from him was empty. After five more minutes an inmate was led to the door. When she came into view through a large window, his heart skipped a beat. It was her, Leah.
Her dark ringlets had grown to barely brush her shoulders and looked dull. Her face was pale and sad, but he was sure she was the girl who’d written.
She raised her handcuffs to be checked. The orange scrub top was so big on her the shoulder seams fell several inches down her thin upper arms. There was a chain attached to the cuffs that would be hooked to a belt around her waist. Her feet were probably shackled too. Didn’t they know she was harmless? Caleb rubbed his temples to ward off a gnawing ache. The man on the phone had said seven months. Almost the entire time he’d looked for her, she’d been right here…serving a jail sentence. How had this happened to such a gentle soul? She couldn’t be the woman he’d thought her to be.
When the door opened, she shuffled to the chair across from him. The chains from her wrists and between her feet probably weighed as much as she did. There wasn’t a belt at her waist, though. It hung around her hips…under her basketball-sized belly. Caleb’s stomach twisted and he felt a little lightheaded. She was, without a doubt, pregnant.