Seedlings by Aaron Paul Lazar

What They Say

“You do not have to explain every single drop of water contained in a rain barrel. You have to explain one drop—H2O. The reader will get it.”
—George Singleton

Aaron Paul Lazar

Aaron Paul Lazar writes to soothe his soul. A bestselling Kindle author of 22 books, including three addictive mystery series, writing books, and a new love story, Aaron enjoys the Genesee Valley countryside in upstate New York, where his characters embrace life, play with their dogs and grandkids, grow sumptuous gardens, and chase bad guys. Visit his website at and watch for his upcoming release, UNDER THE ICE. Aaron has won over 18 book awards for his novels and finds writing to be his form of "cheap therapy." Feel free to connect with him on Facebook or his website; he loves to connect with readers.

SEMI-FINALIST Kindle Book Review Awards 2015
FINALIST Readers Favorites Awards 2013
SEMI-FINALIST Kindle Book Review Awards 2013, Mystery Category
GRAND PRIZE * FINALIST 2013 EPIC Book Awards  * FINALIST 2012 FOREWORD BOOK OF THE YEAR AWARDS * Finalist DaVinci Eye Cover Award 2013 * WINNER 2011 EPIC Book Awards, BEST Paranormal * FINALIST 2011 FOREWORD BOOK AWARDS * WINNER 2011 Eric Hoffer BEST Book, COMMERCIAL FICTION *Carolyn Howard-Johnson's Top 10 Reads for 2012 * 2X FINALIST Global eBook Awards 2011 * Preditors & Editors Readers Choice Award – 2nd place 2011* Carolyn Howard-Johnson’s Top 10 Books of 2012 * Winner of Carolyn Howard-Johnson’s 9th Annual Noble (Not Nobel!) Prize for Literature 2011 * Finalist Allbooks Editor’s Choice Awards 2011 * Preditors&Editors Top 10 Finalist  * Yolanda Renée's Top Ten Books 2008MYSHELF Top Ten Reads 2008  * Writer’s Digest Top 101 Website Award 2009-2012

Contact Aaron at aaron(dot)lazar(at)


Books by multi-award winning, Kindle bestselling author, Aaron Lazar:


LeGarde Mysteries

DOUBLE FORTÉ (print, eBook, audio book)
UPSTAGED (print, eBook, audio book)  
MAZURKA (print, eBook, audio book)
FIRESONG (print, eBook, audio book)
TREMOLO: CRY OF THE LOON (print, eBook, audio book)
DON’T LET THE WIND CATCH YOU (print, eBook, audio book)
THE LIARS’ GALLERY (print, eBook, audio book)
SPIRIT ME AWAY (print, eBook, audio book)
UNDER THE ICE: COUNTERPOINT (coming soon 2015)
LADY BLUES: forget-me-not (print, eBook, audio book)
VOODOO SUMMER ( print, eBook, audio book)


Green Marble Mysteries

The Disappearance of Billy Moore (formerly Healey's Cave) (print, eBook, audio book)
TERROR COMES KNOCKING (print, eBook, audio book)
FOR KEEPS (print, eBook, audio book)


Tall Pines Mysteries Series

FOR THE BIRDS (print, eBook, audio book)
ESSENTIALLY YOURS (print, eBook, audio book)
SANCTUARY (print, eBook, audio book)
BETRAYAL (print, eBook, audio book)


Paines Creek Beach Series

THE SEACREST (print, eBook, and audio book)
THE SEACROFT (print, eBook, audio book)
THE SEADOG (print, eBook, audio book)



by Aaron Paul Lazar, author of the LeGarde Mystery Series.











Illustration © 2006 GinELF

July 2020

Complete section: WHERE DO YOU WRITE? - "Writing on the River"; "Writing on the Road"; "Writing with Kids"; "Face-to-Face with Writers (in real life)" Excerpts from Write Like the Wind volume 2 by Aaron Paul Lazar. Re-printed by permission of the author. Copyright © 2020 Aaron Paul Lazar. All rights reserved.

Write Like the Wind volume 2 by Aaron Paul Lazar


Writing on the River

Last week my wife and I stayed at a rustic cabin in the Adirondacks. I say rustic, because it doesn’t have all the amenities of home. It wasn't like we had to use the old outhouse (there was one), but there was no cable (who cares?), no washer dryer (So? Bring extra clothes.) No cell phone service. (ahh…peace and quiet) No Internet. (Okay, I admit, I was in withdrawal). No neighbors...

That was the best part. It took a while to get used to the idea that we weren't being observed by casual drivers by or neighbors. By the end of the first day, we'd grown addicted to the delightful presence of the water rushing beside us and the quiet calm of the woods.

The river had a personality of it's own. Its sound—more than a murmur, less than a roar—was cathartic. I opened my window at night to let in the cool breeze and to hear the river while I devoured books and slept like the proverbial log.

Of course, there was a reason I'd chosen to escape to this spot. I'd been stalling a little on my current WIP, For the Birds, a paranormal mystery set in the Adirondacks. But I hadn't been there in so many years that I was calling on distant memories and Internet photos. It worked fairly well, but I needed more. I needed the feel of the cool woods around me, the scent of balsam, the crunch underfoot of pine needles on soft dirt. I needed to be immersed.

And of course, the ability to up and go on the spur of the moment is actually one of the hidden blessings of being laid off from my job at Kodak. I never would have taken this week in May to go play in the woods for a whole week. But, with a good tax refund in hand, the possibility became a reality.

For hours each day, my wife and I sat in Adirondack chairs on the edge of a cliff overlooking the gorgeous Sacandaga River in Hope, New York.

We were just about a half hour's drive inside the Adirondack Park, on the south side. The cabin reminded me of my childhood summers at camp in Maine and was absolutely perfect. We kept the fire going in the old Triumph woodstove.

It was pretty chilly in the morning and the tall pines overhead kept the cabin cool all day. I cooked gourmet meals at night. We drank a bottle of Riesling most evenings, or sat with a glass of Amaretto on ice in the afternoons in the warming sun that went down behind the mountain overlooking the river. At night we watched dozens of our favorite movies.

I read three books in six days: More Deaths Than One by Pat Bertram (fantastic plot), Longshot by Dick Francis (a wonderful reread that reminded me what damned good writing is all about), and Marley and Me by John Grogan (a hilarious and a heartbreaking work that also reminded me of the value of simple writing).

And folks, I wrote like the wind. Oh, did I write. The scenes, flowing as easily as the Sacandaga River, were set in the very cabin we stayed in. The cabin became the location where my protagonist Marcella's mother had been stashed by the kidnappers; the river became the spot where Marcella fought with a rogue FBI agent; the island across the way became the secret place where her mother was abandoned, tied to the tallest pine tree in the center of the island.

In six glorious days, I wrote 13,000 words, and also set up the rest of the scenes in the book. Now I know where the lost "treasure" is located. And I know what form that treasure takes. And I've got all the lovely woodsy details to get Marcella, her mother, and Quinn to the top of the mountain where they'll face a surprising end to a twisted story.

But the week was well balanced. Between writing for a few hours each day, reading, just spending time with my wife, and cooking, I also was able to do a little work I'd promised on a friend's manuscript. I got about fifty pages done on that, which lessened my ever-present guilt.

I hiked and took photos every day, first around the cabin on the pine-needle-covered access roads, and then along some grassy trails nearby where I shot wildflowers.

Finally, the day before we left, I accepted my own challenge to climb a local mountain to a remote lake. The experience was humbling, and hard. But I wouldn't have given that up for the world. And now I have the location of the final scene in For the Birds.

Even if you can't get away for a whole week, try a walk around the block or a country drive with your honey. Change your routine a little, and take a saunter down a path you've never checked out. Bring your dog and let him choose the way. Be sure not to get lost. But whatever you do to change your environment for a little while, when you get back I'll bet you'll write like the wind.


Writing on the Road

I’ve always been a homebody. Mostly it’s because I get all the social interaction I need from my family, my friends at work, and my characters. And of course, many of my passions lie on the home front, like writing, gardening, cooking, and taking photos of the Genesee Valley.

But several of these hobbies are decidedly portable, and writing is one I can do anywhere, as long as I have my MacBook Pro at my side.

If you have a trip coming up and happen to be in the middle of writing a book—don’t despair. Not only do you not have to worry about continuing your story, but you might actually find the experience a writing nirvana.

My good friend Mary Emmons suggested I write a piece about writing on the road, since I seem to be doing this a lot more lately with the new day job.

Here are a few things to consider before you travel.

Whether you’re going to a remote cabin in the woods without Internet, like the Tall Pines cabin in the Adirondacks which is now my favorite writing place in the world, or whether you’re traveling to Germany or Thailand, as I have done in the past few years, be sure to be prepared.

First of all, safeguard all of your current works before sending yourself and your laptop around the globe.

Of course, you should already have a hard drive backup (that you actually USE every day) and also as a backup to the backup it’s a good idea to enroll in an online service like Carbonite that can keep your files safe in case of a fire or hurricane. I also send them to myself and save them in a folder on Yahoo just as an extra precaution. I can access them that way from any computer in the world in case of a hard drive crash.

Okay, so now that you know you’re safe whether or not you drop your laptop into the hotel pool, prepare to have access to your laptop while you have all those endless, otherwise boring, hours in the airports.

Bring your charger in your online baggage, and if you’re working at the gate waiting for your flight to come in (sometimes this can be hours and hours), be sure to find a spot where you can top off the battery for the flight.

Some airlines (as on my recent flight to Germany on Lufthansa) don’t let you use laptops anymore during the flight. In that case, have a good book ready. I keep books loaded on my iPhone (which they normally let you use in “airplane mode”), and on my wife’s old Kindle, and I also always carry a few paperbacks. Of course, we all know that reading is the best way to get inspired and learn the craft, so I consider this just an extension of my writing. But if you are allowed to power up during the flight, push your seat back as far as you can and get to work.

One, of course, must develop the ability to block out all the background noise in the airport terminal or on the plane. But with the proper earplugs and focus, you might be able to write a few chapters while zooming across the globe.

Although I get terribly homesick when I’m on an extended trip away from family, I do find that time in a hotel—whether sitting at a breakfast table, by the pool, or in my room—provides some of the best writing time ever.

There are no dogs to let out, no honey-do lists, no gardens to weed, no televisions blaring in the background, no meals to prepare. There’s just that delicious, quiet, beckoning time to delve into my stories and go wild. Honestly, it can be some of the most productive writing time ever. I rarely even turn on the television when I’m at the hotel, because that’s one distraction I don’t need.

How do you write when you travel? Are you a pen and paper kind of writer? Do you imagine your next chapters in your head while relaxing with your eyes closed?

The lesson here is that travel doesn’t have to mess up your writing schedule—it can actually enhance it.


Writing with Kids

I’ve written hundreds of articles about the craft of writing, the world of publishing, the aching sense of loneliness we writers sometimes endure as solitary artists, and so many more writing life topics. But I haven't ever written about children and their heads-full-of-stories.

I’m going to admit something to you. I’m an old fuddy-duddy—at least when it comes to kids and their upbringing. If you’ve read any of my “slice of life” articles where I share stories about my grandkids, you already know that I believe kids should be outside, playing. Simply playing. They should be using their imaginations, climbing trees, picking wild blackberries, throwing balls, and running. Lots of running is important.

My childhood was full of those activities and more. I was lucky enough to have an old chestnut gelding, and we roamed the woods and fields alone and with friends for most of my young years.

So, here it is: winter, we STILL have no snow to frolic in, and I see my grandsons playing with this awful Xbox 360 (or whatever the heck it’s called). So, I get crazy. I hate seeing them pretending to drive, bomb, kick, hit, stab or whatever it is those stupid games allow them to do. I REALLY hate it. But they aren’t mine to raise (not 100%, anyway, LOL) and I have to tolerate some of this stuff that comes with their generation.

This week, however, I decided to lure them away with the idea of making a book together. Julian helped me with chapter 1 and part of chapter 2; Gordie took over midway through chapter 2, and then it snowballed. I typed and helped them by asking questions like, “and what did they see in the green puddle?” and “what did the billy goat say to the boy?” etc. Each boy wanted to write a chapter every night. We got up to chapter four, and then they had to leave to go to their daddy’s house. We’ll add more next week when they come back. They drew pictures on the computer, and we printed them out to use in our “book.” We made four copies of it for various members of the family, and they erupted in peals of laughter every time a new victim read the story.

I can’t tell you how much fun it was, but I thought for a lark I’d share some of our unedited creations below. Now, if we were writing this for a real storybook, I might have jumped in more and suggested some cool twists. But really, it was funny enough to see what came out of their little boy minds. I even left in all the exclamation marks that I HAD to include because of how they yelled out the sentences with such excitement on their faces. ;o) I had a blast, and hope you’ll get a kick out of it, too.

Billy and His Friends, by Julian and Gordon Martin

Chapter One

Billy was walking down the street one day. He saw a green puddle, and he jumped in it! The puddle went all the way to Chinatown. Billy got hungry, and ate all of the eggrolls in Chinatown, ‘cause he was so hungry!

His tummy got so big, it was as big as a pumpkin house. Then he got very sleepy, and fell asleep in the grass on the side of the road.

A Billy goat woke him up and said, “Will you be my friend, Billy?”

Billy said, “Sure! But what’s your name?”

“My name is Billy Goat Filly.”

“We have the same name!”

“Yes, but you can call me Billy Goat.”

Along came a brown horse, named Connie. She nickered and stood beside them. On her head was a horsefly named Goofy. Goofy had a very large nose, and she honked loudly when she blew it.

“Honk! Honk!” said Goofy.

“Do you have a cold, Goofy?” asked Billy.

Goofy said, “No, it’s just my big nose.”

Billy and Billy Goat wanted a ride on Connie’s back. Billy asked, “Can we have a ride on you?”

Connie said, “No goat is going to ride me. Billy Goat is too big. But you can have a ride, Billy.”

Billy hopped on her back and they cantered away to the land of giant gumdrops that looked like hills. Purple, orange, yellow, green, pink, and red candies glowed at night. Billy ate so much candy, he got a tummy ache. The other animals helped him by giving him Tums and rubbing lavender, ginger, and peppermint oils on him.

They traveled a long purple road through the candy forest to the land of teensy tiny babies. Babies crawled everywhere, crying “Mama!” and “Papa!” and “Daddy!” and “Gordie!” and “Gramma!” and “Julian!”


Chapter Two

Billy, Billy Goat, Connie, and Goofy, all made bottles for the babies with strawberry milk inside. The babies drank it for nineteen hours. Then they slept for a long time.

Billy got back on Connie, and Goofy landed on Billy Goat for a ride. They headed across the river to the land of the blue herons. One hundred herons were flying above them and they went down and landed on a blue pond with fish inside and they ate the fish, because they love fish!

Billy, Connie, Goofy, and Billy Goat, went on a purple boat that was really super big! It had a living room, bedroom, kitchen, dining room, and robots in it! And sometimes the silly robots danced on the deck! They sang “Chaka WEE!” and “Mmm mmm MMM mmm” and “Tikka weowww.” Suddenly, they all looked up and saw giant yellow birds flying down, trying to get the robots into the water because they were trying to hurt the people and animals on the boat!

The animals and Billy tried to swim to shore, because the boat was sinking! They almost made it to beach, then the huge wave pushed them onto the sand.


Chapter Three

When they all reached the shore, a big wave came and pushed them into a tree. They thought it tickled! It was so big, it pushed them up to the leaves! They took all of the other trees, cut them up, and made a big tree house so they could live there!

They made swings so they could jump in the water and swim! Even Connie swam, with Goofy flying in circles over their heads to make them spin around and get dizzy. When they were hungry, they swam to shore and ran to MacDonalds, because they were SO hungry, they wanted to eat fries and hamburgers. They wanted to drink Mountain Dew, but a big angel came down from the sky and said, “Do not drink the Mountain Dew, it is full of caffeine! And it’s not good for children.” They listened, but they didn’t want to listen, so they secretly drank the Mountain Dew.

Then, they were WILD from the caffeine. So wild, they accidentally ran into the angel, and knocked her down! They helped her by giving her Mountain Dew to drink, and now SHE was wild! She flew around in crazy circles, fast as an airplane speed limit.

They punched themselves into the sky and landed at Chuck E. Cheese’s, where they played video games. Connie didn’t have fingers, she had hooves, so she used her teeth to play the games. Billy played the shooting game, and he got a million trillion billion tickets. Then, they got homesick, and wanted to go back to their tree house.

When the got home, they found Santa Claus in their tree house!

Billy said, “Santa!” and he hugged him.

Santa said, “Billy! I need your help! I have a problem!”

Billy Goat, Connie, and Goofy asked, “What is it?”

Santa said, “I can’t figure out what present goes to who!”

The Angel said, “to whom!” (okay, so I added this line… heh)

They all laughed.

Santa sat down in the corner and cried. He was so tired and sleepy. He fell fast asleep.

While he was sleeping, they all took the presents and opened them and kept them.


Chapter Four

After Santa slept for ten million hours, a hedgehog came into the tree house and yelled, “Santa! Santa! Santa!” Santa didn’t wake up.

Then a second hedgehog came in and yelled, “Billy! Billy! Billy!” Billy was too busy playing with the stolen presents.

Then a third hedgehog came in and yelled, “ARRRRRRRR! Why did you steal from Santa? Now all the children won’t get their presents!”

Billy felt really bad, and re-wrapped all the presents and put them back in Santa’s sack. Then Connie said, “Let’s help Santa figure out who gets what presents.”

Billy said, “Okay!”

After Santa flew off in his sleigh with his new list and all his presents and reindeer, the four friends hopped down from the tree and decided to go to South America. They took a plane and said to the pilot, “We want to drive this plane.”

So, they pushed the pedals and Billy Goat Filly steered the plane. When they landed, they heard a big CRACK! The airplane crashed and a wing fell off. But they were all right.

They saw a giant snake trying to eat them. Billy Goat Filly stomped as hard as he could on the snake and it hurt a LOT. The snake was so scared, his tail fell off. Then a BIGGER snake came and he said, “Hey, Ding Dong, Billy Goat Filly! Ding Dong! Ding Dong! Ding Dong! Bing Bing!”

Billy said, “I’ll give you lollypops if you snakes go away.”

The snakes said, “Okay. We love lollypops.”

Now the four friends headed for a giant waterfall. By accident, they all fell over it, and splashed into the water below. They started swimming, and they landed on an island, where they found coconut trees, bananas, and pineapples.

“Yummy! We will eat all of the pineapples, bananas, and coconuts,” said Goofy and Billy.

After they ate, they found a cave with diamonds and emeralds and pineapples in it. Suddenly, a dragon came into the cave and blew fire at them. He said, “Why are you taking my pineapples. That’s my dinner!”

The four friends said, “Sorry, we didn’t mean to take your dinner.”

The dragon said, “I don’t want your apology.” He blew more green, blue, yellow, pink, and purple fire at them. “Bad boy, Billy Goat Filly!”

They all ran away from the dragon, and flew back home to their tree house to plan their next adventure.

The end (for now)


I had to work a little hard with Gordie to try to gently redirect the fighting and hitting and chasing and fire blowing. Julian was more willing to come up with topics like the candy land with all the babies crawling around. He also likes the fighting topic, but has a wider variety of interests.

It cracked me up to see Gordie’s little voice coming out in the story, especially when he talked about the robots, Santa, and the dragon. I guess you’d have to know these precious boys to appreciate it the way I did. As an aside, however, I’m the one who’s always telling them they can’t drink soda (the Mountain Dew comment). I laughed that they assigned my comments to the poor angel.

Have you tried this with the kids in your lives? Give it a try. It’s really an eye-opener. And who knows, it might kick-start your own creativity.


Face-to-Face with Writers (in real life)

My writer’s life is full of people I adore, but most of them are a voice on the computer and an image on my screen. I feel as if I know them intimately and would be able to pick up a conversation in a snap if and when we meet in real life.

I have had the distinct pleasure of meeting Sonya Bateman at a book signing in Syracuse. We clicked immediately in real life, just like we did online. I knew we would.

Of course these online friends are "real." And the fact that I don't get to meet them in person is okay. But last night, for the first time in my writing life, I joined a Writers Group and went face to face with other writers.

I was very hesitant. I had no knowledge of their writing skills. I wondered if they would they all be amateurs and ask me to critique their books. Not that there's anything wrong with amateurs. Heck, we all were amateurs at one point in our lives. And I do help fledgling writers all the time. But I knew in advance that I wouldn't be able to take on that kind of a workload. I have to turn down my online writer friends all the time.

Would they ask me to read and review their books? As many of you know, I fit in just a few mysteries per year and struggle to get those reviews completed within 3-6 months. I wish I could do them all, but then I wouldn't be a writer—I'd be a reviewer.

On the other hand, I worried that maybe they'd be highbrow super academics who would look down on my mystery series. I'd read them a chapter from my WIP and they'd exchange looks of amused tolerance.

Or worse. They’d tell me all the things they think are horribly wrong with it. I'm open to critiques, but I was afraid of being ripped to shreds. Yeah, even after publishing so many books, winning a bunch of cool awards, and receiving great reviews, I was still nervous. I don't think I'll ever outgrow the fear of being "exposed" as a horrible writer in front of academics.

Wayne, one of my old friends from Kodak, showed up the other day. I hadn't seen him in ten years, and there he was on my doorstep. I was thrilled, as I'd been missing my old pals at Kodak more and more.

Wayne's now a journalist for a local paper, and he urged me to attend the Wyoming Writes group as well as do an interview for his paper. He'd been wanting to check out the group himself, and thought he'd write an article about it for his paper.

So, with trepidation, I took off for Perry, New York. The bookstore where the group meets is called Burlingham Books. It's a beautiful little shop on what I call Main Street, USA—a lovely historic village not far from Letchworth State Park. Wayne and I got there early, did the interview, and waited as folks started to arrive.

All my fears were completely ungrounded. The people in the group—Tanya, Deb M, Deb S, Cindy, the Scribbler, and Mr. Newton—were welcoming and supportive. They were mature writers who had stories and work to share. We listened to a chapter about a small country church, quirky poems, poems that painted luscious imagery, and a frank and hilarious opening to a book of memoirs. All were well done and simply delightful. I read the first chapter to Don't Let the Wind Catch You, and to my joy, the folks enjoyed it and wanted to know what happens next.

After an hour of reading and sharing, we took a "field trip" to a local art gallery where a delightful assortment of paintings and watercolors were on display. We each chose a piece that spoke to us, and had fifteen minutes to write. On other writers' sites I've joined we called this flash fiction. You might call it postcard fiction. But whatever, it was a ball. When we were done, each writer shared his creation as we stood in front of the painting and listened. I've gotta tell you, these works were amazing.

My choice was a watercolor, a blue vase with red/pink poppies and an iris, by Sandra Tyler.

Here’s what I wrote in my fifteen minutes. Now don't laugh, it's not polished or anything. And in spite of the beauty of the painting, my mind turned to mystery.

What else?


Blue with Flowers by Sandra Tyler

Celeste placed the vase on the table and dropped into the chair beside it. She’d picked her mother’s poppies before, but today was different. Today her mother lay—not in the cot beside her—but under the ground.

The salmon poppies were the color of her mother’s favorite sweater, a fuzzy number that Celeste now wore, wrapped tightly around her thin chest. She touched the fragile petals, and couldn’t help compare it with the feel of her mother’s soft cheeks. Cheeks that had sunk deeper and deeper against her bones in the past months. Cheeks that became concave, but which still cradled a smile when her mother’s thin lips curved into a ribbon of delight. Cheeks that Celeste now saw in the mirror, reflected back at her.

She’d inherited more than just her looks from her mother. Her stubborn nature, her love of cupcakes, and her passion for all things pink had clearly sprung from the genetic well that was Mom. Dad had given her the bright red hair. But not much else.

She wished he’d come to the funeral today. At least to make things look normal. Where was he? Off on a dalliance with a rich bimbo? At the casino? Searching for more unwitting victims?

Celeste knew what had happened. She watched her mother eat the oatmeal every morning. The oatmeal her father had prepared. And she knew. She just knew there had been something in it. Something not right.

Being ten was hard. Especially when your father murdered your mother.


If you haven't joined an in-person writers group, give it a try. You might just learn a thing or two.

Aaron Paul Lazar

Write Like the Wind cover artwork


WRITE LIKE THE WIND, volumes 1, 2, 3  (audio books)

Aaron Paul Lazar writes to soothe his soul. An award-winning, bestselling Kindle author of three addictive mystery series, thrillers, love stories, and writing guides, Aaron enjoys the Genesee Valley countryside in upstate New York, where his characters embrace life, play with their dogs and grandkids, grow sumptuous gardens, and chase bad guys. Visit his website at and watch for his upcoming releases, UNDER THE ICE (2015) and DEVIL’S CREEK (2015). Aaron has won over 18 book awards for his novels and finds writing to be his form of "cheap therapy." Feel free to connect with him on Facebook or his website; he loves to connect with readers!



Bittersweet Hollow series by Aaron Paul Lazar

BITTERSWEET HOLLOW Romantic Suspense Series

DEVIL’S LAKE (print, eBook, and audio book)
DEVIL’S CREEK (print, eBook, and audio book)
DEVILS SPRING (print, eBook, and audio book)

"Loved this book! DEVIL'S LAKE is a riveting read, and It could have been ripped from today's headlines." Joan Hall Hovey, Canada's best selling, award-winning Mistress of Suspense.
- 2015 Finalist Readers Favorites Awards
- 2015 Semi-finalist Kindle Book Review Awards