Why do I write thrillers?
I write thrillers for the same reason I read them – I’m a chicken. I’ve toyed with the idea of getting my PI license or going to the police academy, but . . .
During a police ride-along, the line between imaginary and real was highlighted for me. Downtown beat. Night shift. Before I went, I researched protocol, questions to ask, how to act. I felt REAL as I climbed into the powerful SUV, with rifle behind my head and a Toughbook in my lap.
Our first call was a gang of 20+ people, shots fired. We raced to the scene. Gary (not his real name) angled the vehicle across the street, told me to stay put, jumped out and locked the vehicle with a beep. People ran, angry shouts could be heard. Others approached the SUV, one guy sneering at me through the passenger window, teeth bared. After things were sorted out, we were off, hurrying from call to call. To the ER for a rape. To a high rise apartment for a man who wondered if his TV was too loud (yeah, seriously). To a robbery. To a threatened suicide. To runaways.
About the time my ridealong was scheduled to be over, we responded to a low-income apartment building I recognized from frequent appearances on the local news. Another officer met us there and warned Gary to leave me in the SUV because the subject was known to “get hairy.” Gary assured me I’d be able to hear everything he said and, again, locked me in the vehicle.
As I sat in the dark, I listened. The officers knocked, announced themselves. A man’s voice answered, loudly. A crash. Yelling, more crashes, more yelling. Something slammed into a wall. Someone grunted. More yelling. Then . . . a loud bang.
Someone’s been shot. I took a deep breath, looked in the side mirror and thought, what am I doing here?
The radio crackled. “Need a bus!”
Lights strobe in the darkness as more patrol cars and an ambulance converged on the scene. My heart pounded. People began to wander past and looked into the SUV, probably wondering who the middle-aged white lady was.
More yelling, more thumps and grunts, then “Officer 443 en route to hospital.”
Oh, that’s not good. Officer 443 is my guy.
There I sat, alone. In a bad part of town. Late at night. But, I reasoned, I was sitting in a police vehicle. Surely, somebody’d come back for it, right? They probably didn’t care about a writer, but the SUV, that was different. So, I settled in and watched. And scribbled notes.
And Gary did return. An hour later. The perp had attempted suicide by overdose, but he’d failed. Instead, he went nuts and attacked one of the paramedics. Gary had restrained the guy while the paramedics worked on him as they raced to the hospital.
Yup, I’ll stick to writing about crime. It’s easier, and much less dangerous.
Fatal Obsession is the most recent Widow’s Web novel – an exciting series where women face challenges that threaten to destroy them, just as they begin to find the strengths within them.
Sophie grew up in the foster care system, an orphan separated from her brother after their parents are killed. After she marries Blake Kendrick and gets pregnant, she’s thrilled that she’s finally part of a real family. When she learns that her husband, a brilliant cancer researcher, has experimented on their unborn child, her world shatters. The powerful man her husband works for is determined to get that child, to use the research within Sophie’s body to save his dying mother. Sophie is forced to go on the run, terrified of what might be growing within her, worried that her baby might need treatment by the very man who is hunting them. The skills she learned in foster care serve her well as she must discriminate between who she can trust and who she can’t, who is a real friend and who is a threat. All the while, an experiment grows within her . . . will they survive?
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Lori Robinett is the author of the Widow’s Web series. She lives in central Missouri with her husband of 20+ years on a small hobby farm, which is maintained exclusively for the comfort and enjoyment of their miniature schnauzer and beagle. She enjoys reading, writing, and scrapbooking. If you can’t find her, check out the backroads, where she may be bouncing along dirt roads in her lifted Jeep.
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Twitter: @LoriRobinett https://twitter.com/LoriRobinett