Born a Military Brat, Marilyn Celeste Morris attended schools overseas, in Seoul Korea and Linz, Austria and various schools stateside.  She learned to write at an early age and now has six books in print and more on the way.  She lives in Fort Worth TX.

Muse: Marilyn, first of all, Whispers of the Muse welcomes you to the site. Tell us a little about yourself. What part of the world do you live in? Tell us about your background?
Marilyn:  I’m in Fort Worth TX and love it.  I’ve been all over the world as an Army Brat and I think I picked a great place to live.  Now, if all my grandchildren were here….lol. 

Muse: Who are your favorite authors?
Marilyn: Believe it or not, this little old granny lady loves Dean Koontz and Michael Crichton.  I also like historical fiction, particularly anything by Philippa Gregory.  But mostly, I am an omnivorous reader of novels of any type. 

Muse: Why do you write mainstream fiction (as well as other genre fiction)?
Marilyn: I think it gives me great leeway in my subject matter, not limiting my story lines to “romance” or “mystery” although many of my books deal with those issues. 

Muse: What is your writing regimen? How often do you work on a novel? Do you set daily time or word goals? What keeps you meeting your deadlines?
Marilyn:  I have to confess, I don’t have a routine.  I try to get most of my work done before dinnertime; I’m a morning person and after lunch, I have to almost beat myself to get back to the computer.  Some days are more prolific than others, and that’s when I get so involved in my plotline and characters, I forget to eat lunch.  Other days, my muse goes missing completely.  I don’t worry about that, because I know she will return soon.  At those times, I turn to some other project that needs my attention.  As for meeting deadlines….heh.  I have one project that was promised this spring, but I’m not nearly finished with it.  I don’t like to disappoint my publisher (Vanilla Heart Publishing) at any time over anything, but she says she understands about my illness…..I have SLE, or lupus, and most of the time I’m just fine, but for unknown causes Lupus will sometimes bite me in the butt and knock me flat.  This spring it has been more vicious than ever, so I begged forgiveness for not meeting the proposed release date of The Unexplored Heart.  

Muse: Does the way you personally look at life reflect in your writing style?
Marilyn: I think so.  Most of my books are about strong women, since I learned that attribute from my mother, who was the wife of a young army officer during the WWII years and Cold War eras, and she had to endure living in isolated military compounds in foreign countries with two little kids.  I learned from her how to endure hardship and loneliness, and much of my writing reflects her courage. 

Muse: What are the creative jumping off points for you? Are you inspired by dreams? Music? Nature? The occasional black nightmare? What triggers your imagination?
Marilyn:  Really, I think nearly every novel I write begins with a “What if?”  statement.  “What if” one of the women my mother played bridge with in 1945-46 in Seoul, Korea, was haunted by her past and chose to end her life there, while the other three maintained some degree of sanity and overcame the obstacles in their lives?  How did they get so strong, and what happened in the other woman’s life that brought her to such despair? 
In my novel, Forces of Nature, I was shopping in the mall located scant yards away from the landing strip of a nearby Air Force Base.  Hmmmm. “What if” a bomber accidentally tore into the mall – who would live and who would die? 
“What if” my black cat, Sabbath, had been owned by a witch, as the vet told me with a perfectly straight face as he handed her to me.  What if she witnessed a murder and was the only one around who could solve the crime? 
All my novels are hinged on that question: What if?  One has to suspend belief in order to write fiction.  Surely a bomber would not fall into the shopping mall, would it? Well, what if a tornado flung it off its flight path? 

Muse: Tell us about The Women of Camp Sobingo. What was your inspiration?
Marilyn: I was 8 years old when I received my very own orders from The War Department to join my army officer father in Seoul, Korea in 1946. The camp had a school, a post exchange, a dispensary, a commissary, and even a movie theatre (think “MASH”).  Ever-present, however, was the military presence, and the tyranny of the Russians located across the 38th Parallel. 
To pass the time in the confines of the military compound, my mother and three other women bonded over bridge games.  Yet one woman chose to end her life there. As I grew older, and wrote my book Once a Brat, about my world travels with my army officer father, this woman’s death still haunted me:  How had others endured what she could not?

Thus, my characters were born:  Trudy, the lead character, was soon to be the heiress to her father-in-law’s publishing empire; Nell, the West Texas girl who showed others how to cook on a wood-burning stove and conquer other hardships; Maggie, the profane mother of two unruly boys from Chicago; and Leah, a former model in New York who, after she marries her hometown sweetheart, has now become just another army wife, with drink as her only companion. 
After twenty-five years have passed, the women hold a reunion, and long-held secrets and sorrows are revealed, including the startling truth behind Leah’s suicide.

These women are composites of women I have known and none are intended to be modeled after real persons, living or dead.

I had always wondered why the woman who played bridge with my mother and two other women in that military compound so far away, had chosen to kill herself.  There were no answers ready for this 9-year-old girl, so … years later, I made it up.  All the women’s backgrounds, personalities, conduct (or misconduct) are based on composites of women I have known or wished I could have been. 

Muse: What is your favorite scene from the book and why?
Marilyn: It has to be from the epilogue, where the main character, Trudy Cavanaugh, confronts her ghosts of the past and discovers that Leah’s suicide was not Trudy’s fault; and she can let go of the painful past and continue to guide her publishing empire to new heights of success.

Here’s an excerpt:
It has been 25 years since those days in Korea, when they were young army wives.  They have gathered at Trudy’s house for a reunion, as they had promised so long ago.  All were there.  Except Leah…..

“Three handed again,” Nell said. “Just like old times, when Leah couldn’t come...”

Trudy shook, sobbed, and let the tears spill down her cheeks.

“Oh, Trudy. I’m sorry. It was awful for you, then, finding Leah, like that, and it still hurts, doesn’t it?”

“I had nightmares,” Trudy said. “For a long time.”

“I’ll bet.” Maggie said, holding the deck of cards.

“Did you get some help?” Nell asked.

“Meaning a psychiatrist?” Trudy said. “Yes, I went to one, for a while. I suppose he helped, but I still——I still feel guilty!”

She sobbed openly, now, causing Maggie and Nell to exchange looks of concern.

“Guilty? Hell, Trudy, we did what we could for her. What more could you want?”

“It was my fault that Leah killed herself.”

“You wanna explain that?” Maggie shook her head.

Trudy left the table, wiping her hands over her face, smoothing her hair back from her eyes. She paced back and forth in front of the French windows; now and then she paused absently to touch them, as if mentally measuring them for new drapes.
“It’s a long story.”

“What isn’t? We got time. I don’t want to see you like this,” Maggie emphasized. “Go ahead, unload. Pretend you’re at the shrink’s office, and I’m the shrink.  Now, tell me, Missus Cavanaugh, did you hate your mudder? “ Maggie stroked an imaginary beard.

Trudy forced a smile. “No, I loved her.  That’s not it. I caused Leah to kill herself.”

“How?” Nell challenged.

“Remember when Colin came to Korea, when Cav was born? We had an argument, Colin and I. About Leah. I went to see him, asked him not to see Leah any more.”

Maggie’s mouth flew open. “Leah? And Colin?”

“They were having an affair. My father-in—law and my friend. I went to him, asked him to leave, and he did.”

“Did he say anything?” Nell asked.

“He told me be was sorry and that he was leaving.”

“And did he?”

“He didn’t even come to dinner that evening. He must have told Leah that night——she died soon after that.” She sobbed again.

“Your interfering with Colin and Leah didn’t cause her suicide.”

Nell looked at Trudy evenly. “She was carrying on with The Colonel, too.”

Trudy’s head jerked up. Maggie’s mouth flew open again.

“How do you know that?” Maggie demanded.

“Kim told me. The houseboys all knew. They knew everything. And Kim was an incurable gossip.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Trudy whispered.

“For what purpose? What kind of friend would I have been to Leah, to spread all that garbage all over the compound? It wasn’t any of my business. And, if you want to know the truth, Trudy, it wasn’t any of your business about Leah and Colin, either.”

“Yes, yes it was. You don’t understand. It all fits together, you see. While Philip was in Korea, and I stayed here with his parents, I made friends with his cousin, Gail Rutherford.

“At least, I thought she was my friend. We went to lots of parties and she showed me how to dress and made me a Cavanaugh. But one night, she got jealous of her fiancée’s interest in me...”

“This is gettin’ juicy.” Maggie put her feet under her again.

“I said, her fiancée’s interest in me. I never gave Alex any encouragement. He was simply tired of Gail leading him on, and my husband was thousands of miles away, and so Alex thought-—and Gail thought—-but I didn’t encourage him, Maggie.”

“What a shame. Go on.”

“Well, Gail thought I was interested in Alex. One day after a long lunch, she told me that she and Colin had had an affair, years ago.

“They’re not related, you see, it was not a sick kind of thing...I suppose that Gail thought she’d get Alex back, if she made me mad, or something.  Anyway, she drank too much, and as I drove Gail home, we had a bad wreck.

“After I saw that she would be all right, I left the hospital and never saw her again. Then when Colin asked me to work for him, angry as I was at him, I said yes.”

“Wait a minute. You mean you knew about him and Gail, yet you went to work for him?” Nell asked.

“His business was fascinating. He was my father-in-law. I think he suspected Gail had told me about them, and he wanted to make up for it.

“Before I went to Korea, we had a long talk. He wanted my forgiveness.
“But I couldn’t forgive him. When be came to Korea, I almost told him that Cav was my peace offering. Then I found out he was seeing Leah. It was Colin and Gail all over again. I barged into his room one night and told him off. He left, as I wanted him to ——and Leah killed herself.

“But you say that Leah was also involved with The Colonel? Then, maybe——maybe he was responsible for her death. Not Colin. Not me, either.”
She was crying again, softly.

“For years, I had nightmares. Leah lying in a puddle of blood. And I held a knife. An analyst told me I wasn’t responsible, but I didn’t believe him. I didn’t know about Leah and The Colonel.... Thank you, Nell, for telling me.”

“Leah was already headed for destruction before she ever met us,” Nell reminded her gently. “Remember what David told us? It was all in her background.”

“I remember, now. But at the time, I thought I was responsible. Along with Colin.
“Poor man. I never forgave him.”

The three women sat up talking quietly for another hour or so, then went to their rooms.

Trudy was exhausted, yet full of energy at the same time. She had cried more tonight than she had in years, and she felt cleansed. She fell into bed and. for the first time in many years, she had no nightmares.

The telephone rang, insistently.

Trudy answered groggily, looking at the illuminated dial on her alarm clock. Three a.m.
“Hello? Leo! It’s three o’clock...”

“I know. But it’s daytime in Marrakech.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“That’s where Gail is,” her attorney answered. “Marrakech. She just called me from there. Seems she’s gone back on her promise to give Alex the divorce.”

“That’s not news,” Trudy said wearily. “You didn’t have to wake me with that...”

“That’s not all. There’s a new wrinkle.”

Trudy closed her eyes. What next?

“Gail’s threatened to blow the lid off Cavanaugh Enterprises.”

Trudy was fully awake. She sat up in bed and struggled into her housecoat.

“How?”

But she knew the answer.

“She’s threatened to tell everything——about herself and Colin.”

Leo coughed discreetly.

Poor Leo, Trudy thought. He doesn’t want to say it, either. 

"That’s enough, Leo. I’ll meet you in the morning, nine a.m., in the office. We’ll decide what to do then, about Gail.”

She hung up.

Gail. Again.

She brushed past her secretary with the order that she wasn’t to be disturbed. Leo was waiting for her in her office.

“You must have come down right after you called me,” she said.

“Almost. I couldn’t sleep, so I did some thinking. And then I came down here and went through Colin’s papers.”

He poured a glass of sherry, questioned her with his yes. She shook her head. Not at nine in the morning, she couldn’t.

He drank his sherry. “Fairy drink.”

“Well.” she began.

“That wasn’t nice.”

“Oh, Leo. I don’t care if you’re queer, or pink or purple. I still like you.” She paced the floor. “Damn her! I’ve put up with Gail Rutherford ——Collins——long enough. Isn’t it time she gave up and gave Alex his divorce? She’s never loved him, never been with him, jaunting around the world.

“And now, this——this threat. Oh, Leo.”

Her face turned white. “What are we going to do?”

“I think I know. Sit down. You’re making me nervous.”

She sat.

“I’ve reviewed Colin’s will. I don’t know if you realize it or not, but after he came back from seeing you and Philip and Cav in Korea, he changed his will.

“It seemed strange at the time, but I did as be wanted. Now, I appreciate what he had in mind.”

“What?” she asked impatiently.

“Well, Colin included Gail in his will.”

“That’s not news. Every member of the family shared. And she was considered family. I was at the reading of the will, remember?”

“Yes, I remember. And Gail did receive a small fortune. More than she deserved.

“But what you don’t know is the small print, I didn’t read aloud at the meeting. I told Gail privately; here’s my notes; my proof that she knows.”

“Leo, get to the point. Knows what?”

“Part of the conditions of Colin’s will was that Gail would receive her monthly check only if she didn’t bring disgrace on the family. Give it bad publicity.

“I’ve been looking the other way, so far, continuing to fund her escapades, so long as she hurt no one but herself. But now...now I can withhold her money. It would hurt the family if she told——what happened.”

“The business would survive,” Trudy said thoughtfully. “But it would kill Katherine. And not help Cav, either. So, she can’t go through with it.”

Leo shook his head. “Not if she wants her money.”

She stood and embraced him. “Oh, Leo. I’m so lucky to have you.”

He patted her and stroked her hair.

“It’s too bad you’re different,” she laughed. “I might have been interested in you.”

“I can top that. I might have been interested in you!”

He released her. “What a shock it will be to the gossips when you and Alex marry, after all. They all think we’re lovers!” He threw his head back and laughed at the irony.

She picked up her coat and he helped her with it.

“Leo,” she said thoughtfully, “When can we tell Gail about this? I mean, did she put a time limit on us?”

“She’s on her way, now. I told her she’d have to come by and sign some more papers.”

“Then, I think I know what to do...” she said.

Trudy returned to the house that afternoon to find Nell seated gingerly on the couch in the study.

“Did you have a good time riding?” she guessed.

“Oh, I’ve got saddle sores!! Should have known better; at my age! I haven’t been riding since I was a kid.”

“Is Maggie back yet?”

Nell nodded. “I heard her come in a while age. She’s been shopping all day.”

Trudy smiled. “I can hardly wait to see what she bought.”

“Some people never change, do they?”

“Thank goodness!” Trudy laughed. “I wouldn’t want either of you to change, not a bit. “Now, I want to talk to you both.”

“Sounds ominous,” Maggie said as she swept into the room.

“Like my new dress? I’m gonna wear it tomorrow night. Knock ‘em dead.”

Trudy looked. Maggie’s dress was typically, out of style, out of fit, out of the bargain basement. “It’s just right,” she said truthfully.

“Thanks. Now, what did you wanna talk to us about?”

“Well, thanks to you two being here, and Nell telling me about Leah and The Colonel, I made an important business decision today.”

“Huh?” Maggie said.

“I don’t understand,” Nell replied. “I’m glad we could help, but I sure don’t know how it helps in business.”

“I’ll tell you. Remember me telling you about Gail?”

They nodded.

“Well, she’s coming back here, threatening to tell the world about her affair with Colin. It would ruin the family. She doesn’t want to give Alex his divorce, you see.”

“Oh, Trudy. What are you gonna do?”

“Why, I called her bluff, of course. She’s coming, tomorrow night.”

Muse: Have you written other books?
Marilyn: Oh, yes.  I have two non-fiction books, one about Lupus: Diagnosis: Lupus: The Intimate Journal of a Lupus Patient, which is my own personal struggle with The Wolf, and which I am re-writing with additional comments from other lupus patients; Once a Brat, my memoir of being a Military Brat during the WWII and Cold War eras, which I am also re-writing to include comments and stories from other Military Brats; and then there is my collection of humor/human interest columns written over a ten year period for a suburban newspaper, called My Ashes of Dead Lovers Garage Sale (and other stories from a single woman of a certain age) and then I have few other novels:  Forces of Nature; Sabbath’s Gift; and Sabbath’s House.  I’m currently writing a Victorian Romance novel, The Unexplored Heart, which should be released early this fall.  My novels are available from Vanilla Heart Publishing; the non-fiction titles can be found on Amazon.com, at least until I have them re-written.   

Muse: How do you feel about the current publishing marketplace?
Marilyn:I love to write; I hate the marketing aspect.  I once sold Mary Kay cosmetics, and I’m sure the reason I went broke from selling Mary Kay was because I almost said, shaking my head every time, “You don’t want to buy any Mary Kay Cosmetics, do you?”  I’m almost that bad about publicizing my own work.  But I’m learning.