Idea for the Book

6754085907_401285b4d8_z“Welcome to my darker side. When my middle son Kristofer read a grisly part he said, ‘I can’t believe my mother wrote this.’”

The idea for The Confessional came to mind when my husband and I were going to renovator emporiums to find period architectural pieces for the Louisanna-style house we were building in Pungo Village in the rural southern part of Virginia Beach, VA. In Mechanicvile, VA we saw a confessional that they had for sale and I suggested we buy it and make it into a phone booth. Unfortunately it was too big for the house and on the two- hour trip back to the Beach the whole story was born in my mind as was the premise.

What if a murderer has, as part of his killing ritual, the obsession to confess in order to be free to kill again?

And …

What if the church where he confesses is renovated and “his” confessional is sold?


What if a psychic woman buys the confessional and converts it into a phone book only to begin hearing jumbled voices each time she uses the confessional phone?

And …

What if the confessors’ voices become only one: the deep, raspy voice of the murderer feigning contrition for his gruesome crimes?

Wouldn’t the woman’s curiosity compel her to find out as much as she could about the confessional?

And …

Wouldn’t the murderer’s obsession to find “his” confession compel him to find it?


What might be the result of each of their searches?

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