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Alexandra Hamlet
a book bubble about
The Right Guard (The Allegiance Series, Book 1)
Mystery, Thriller & Suspense
Author Insight
Fiction vs Reality
My husband has actually walked out of suspense, and military related movies in a theatre because, "they had the the colonel's insignia upside down," or "the captain's medals are in the wrong place," or "they mixed up the insignia of 3 services on one uniform," or "a general would never do that." I usually wait now until the movies come up on Netflix so I can go get coffee while he settles down with the opening scenes. But in his defense, when you author fiction, you are asking the audience to 'suspend reality' to get your story across. I can believe that an ET would land a spaceship on the White House lawn. However, when you have close to 25 million people in the U.S. who know military uniform insignia, get it right! Pay attention to the little things in your writing that will make a difference. Get someone to help if you don't know it. That's what research is for. You can stretch reality to a point in writing but you run the risk on some topics that a reader will just put your book down and never read another of your stories. Hollywood take note.
Book Excerpt
The Right Guard (The Allegiance Series, Book 1)
It was too late to be called breakfast, but with blueberry muffins, juice and coffee, it tasted like morning. The electric pot churned again re-heating the strong coffee for the third time. Jill pulled the English muffin halves out of the oven and set them on the table.
Eric reached for a muffin and gnawed at the crusty edge. “I hope Oldfield will tell me that you can be released in my custody if you’re manageable.”
“But I won’t be in your custody.”
“No. But only Ross and I will know that. There’ll be someone around to look after you, but you’ve got to promise not to screw this up. My butt is on the line for this, too.”
Jill shook her head in disbelief still holding the large blue pottery-made coffee mug to her mouth with both hands. The hot brew slowly washed the remnants of sleep down her throat. “What type of cell would I get if I refuse to go along?”
“It wouldn’t exactly be a cell,” he said. “More like an apartment somewhere, guarded twenty-four hours a day. Or it would be a community where there were others whose lives were in danger, or who for some reason would be dangerous to themselves if released.”
“Sounds cozy.”
“It’s not that bad.”
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