Anya Mora

Welcome to Uncaged! On May 6th, your latest book, Secrets Mothers Keep will release. Can you tell readers more about this book?

So thrilled to be here. Secrets Mothers Keep explores mother-son relationships, how far you would go to protect the ones you love, and the cost that it might carry.

You’ve contributed a couple books to a series, A Liars Island Suspense series in which several authors have also written books for. How did this series come about and can you tell readers more about how the books all connect?

Liars Island is a fun, inter-connected series of novella length thrillers. I came up with the idea for the series with author Hayley Ford. We designed an island community and invited authors to join us in writing the world. It has been wonderful to connect with contributing authors and bring readers this edge-ofyour-seat series.

The books feature island landmarks and returning characters crop up throughout the series. The stories are all stand-alone, but it becomes more fun the more of them read!

What is the most difficult scene for you to write? What is the easiest?

I could write dialogue all day – for me the challenge is the high action scenes. Since I mostly write first person, present tense, I dive pretty deep in the main character’s head, and enjoy that aspect of writing.

What are you looking forward to doing when the pandemic is over that you haven’t been able to do?

Post-pandemic I am looking forward to leisurely browsing a bookstore, probably with a London Fog in a to-go cup, and a lunch date on the horizon.

What was the first book that made you laugh and/or cry?

As an adult, I remember crying during the novel White Oleander. It was heartbreaking, the motherdaughter relationship in that novel.

What are some things you like to do to relax when you aren’t writing or working?

I love to practice yoga. I never have been much into exercise, but when looking for a way to lower my stress levels, I turned to a local yoga studio. I always say I’ve never loved something so much that I was so bad at! But I am learning!

I also love to travel. Preferably to a location with a beach.

If you could have one all-year season, which would it be and why?

Summer. I live in the often-rainy Pacific Northwest. I live for the sunny months!

How many hours a day do you write? On average, how long does it take to write a full novel?

I write full time and usually work on my stories from 8-4pm. I take about six weeks to draft a novel, but most often they have lived in my head for a lot longer! I have a little travel trailer I renovated in my back yard and am lucky enough to carry my morning coffee to my little office and get to work!

Do you prefer ebooks, audiobooks or physical books? Are you reading anything now?

I think it would be an even split. I was gifted a Kindle Oasis this past Christmas and love reading late into the night on that, on my side. But when I am running errands or taking walks, I turn on an audio book. Any other time, I have paperback. I can’t resist them.

I am currently reading What Comes After by JoAnne Tompkins. I was compelled to purchase it after reading that the male main character was a Quaker. I am often drawn to religious aspects in novels.

I HAVE A LITTLE TRAVEL TRAILER I RENOVATED IN My BACK yARD AND AM LUCKy ENOUGH TO CARRy My MORNING COFFEE TO My LITTLE OFFICE AND GET TO WORK!.

| FEATURE AUTHOR | What would you like to say to fans, and where can they follow you?

I hope Secrets Mothers Keep resonates with readers. It was a story born out of a fear I had as a mother, of my teenage son connecting online with people who had dangerous intentions. I teased out that fear as I wrote this novel.

Enjoy an excerpt from The Boy Who Kissed the Rain

Secrets Mothers Keep Anya Mora Suspense Releases May 6

On Friday night in the clay fields of Bethel Creek, seventeen-yearold Daniel Reyes is found brutally attacked and left for dead. On Saturday morning, Cora Maxwell finds her teenage son’s clothes covered in blood. A small town torn apart by a horrific hate crime. An investigative reporter hell bent on finding the truth. A mother’s worst nightmare. What really happened to the Reyes boy?

In the heart-stopping and timely suspense novel, Secrets Mothers Keep, widow and mother Cora Maxwell faces the hardest decision of her life. In a world where there are few second chances, do you grant one to your child? And if so… what is the cost?

Excerpt

and see it’s full of dry clothes. Groaning, I realize the breaker must have switched again. It’s one of the reasons I miss Noah. He’d have had that fixed the first time I mentioned it. Whereas I’ve been switching it back on for the better half of the spring.

The breaker box is next to the utility sink and I flip it on. Back at the machine, I realize it’s filled with Ezra’s clothes, and he’s overloaded it to boot. I pull out several bath towels, knowing they’re going to mess up the rotator, and as I do, my eye catches on a large stain. Several of them.

Pulse quickening, I pull more items from the washer, my hands shaking as I stretch the fabric of my son’s clothing, taking in the enormity of what I hold.

I know my stains.

My newspaper column is filled with household advice. How to make your floorboards shine. How to organize a gift wrap closet. How to treat a pesky stain.

This is no ordinary stain. It’s blood-stained clothing. For this, I’d typically start with baking soda — mixing one part soda with two parts cold water in a bowl and dabbing it onto the stain using a cloth. If that didn’t work, I’d simply rub half a lemon over the stain and sprinkle some table salt on top. Last ditch effort would involve hydrogen peroxide.

None of those household tips will fix this. These.

A pair of dark denim blue jeans size 31x34, caked in orange clay and dark red blood. A sweatshirt with blood splattered across the front. Too much blood for a scraped knee or a clumsy fall. So much blood.

Shaking, I sink to the floor, holding my son’s clothing in my hand. I think of Daniel.

Left for dead in the clay fields near Bethel Creek.

No.

This can’t be what it looks like. It has to be anything else. Everything else. It can’t be this.

I drop the clothes, not wanting to touch them, to be connected to them. Even though I am sure there must be an explanation.

How could there not be?

It’s Ezra we are talking about.

Ezra, who is planning on applying to Ivy League schools. Ezra, who volunteers at the nursing home. Ezra, who studies on the weekend.

Not Ezra, who stops by a creek on a Friday night and hurts a boy — a boy we knew and loved — within an inch of his life.

I wipe my cheeks, unaware of the tears that slide down my face, but they are there. No. This isn’t possible, isn’t even a thought to consider.

My eyes fall on the clothes, clothes made for a man. Clothes that would have fit Noah.

I should treat these stains.

It’s a decision that I make in a split-second and even as the icy cold water runs from the faucet of the utility sink, the clothes soaking in the stain-removing concoction, I question myself. My rationale. My sanity. There is no doubting my desperate need for one thing to stay the same in a life that has been split once, and then twice. Fissures running deep along the crevices of my heart. I need this to disappear, for this one thing in my life to stay the same.

Ezra and me, we’re all we’ve got.

shortstory Pt. 4

This story will continue in consecutive months. Ignition Point

by Jami Gray

My words did nothing to erase the contempt edging Uncle Zev’s face. “Mr. Jones?”

“The dead man back at the wreck.”

“He was a dick, Uncle Zev,” Jeremy muttered, as he uncurled from his uncle to stand next to him. “He hit me with a muting spell.” His wan face scrunched up. “I was trying to unravel it, but it kept slipping away. Every time I thought I had it undone, it twisted back up.”

The man’s dark gaze flickered to the boy and back up to me. “A muting spell?” A wealth of disbelief weighed his question.

Why his question made me feel like a five-year-old caught with her hand in the cookie jar, I had no idea. “It obviously wore off.”

“Obviously.” For a moment I thought his lip twitched, but I must have been mistaken. His eyes narrowed, and his voice was sharp with suspicion. “Yet you still managed to get Jeremy’s name.”

“Charades.” The word popped out before I could stop it.

“What?” A frown chased away the fierce lines, leaving behind distracted bafflement.

“You know, the game where you try to guess what something is called?” Jeremy offered helpfully, completely oblivious to the antagonistic undercurrents between his uncle and me.

“She figured it out pretty quick.”

“Not many names with three syllables and a J sound,” I muttered, resisting the urge to shift uncomfortably under Zev’s hard stare. “We’d only gotten to the first name before Frick and Frack behind you showed up.” A tremor ran through my arms, and the Zev’s lips tightened and his head twitched, as if he was shaking off the odd conversation. He re-aimed his intimidating stare and demanded, “Do you know where they were taking him?”

Since I didn’t want to be the lone target of his anger, I had no trouble sharing. “I have the address.”

“Good, then you’re taking me there.”

I was? Funny, I don’t remember agreeing to that. “Why?” Another tremor ran through my arms, and I set my jaw, determined to hold my hands up all night if doing that would keep imminent death at bay. My momentary weakness did not go unnoticed.

“Oh, for God’s sake, drop your hands.” Impatience snapped through his voice.

I refrained from snarking back a snide “thank you” and did just that. Don’t bait the assassin, Rory. Blood rushed back into my fingers, and the rake marks on my arms went from bearable to a teeth-gritting burn.

Oblivious to my inner commentary, Zev answered my question. “Because my job isn’t done until I ensure no one is going to be coming after Jeremy.”

I was all for letting him go rain hellfire and damnation all over whoever waited at the end of this colossal cluster. “Okay, but don’t you think getting Jeremy out of here might be a bit more urgent?” Not that telling this man what to do could be considered smart, but come on, taking a kid on a vengeance mission? That wasn’t exactly the most adult thing to do.

“Since your car is totaled, and I’m not about to trust mine to a woman who can be bought by the highest bidder, that’s not an option.”

Condescending jackass. “Fine.” His dig found its mark, and anger flared. “Then if I’m no longer required, you two run along and have fun.” I was more than ready to call it a night, especially since Jeremy had his grumpy-ass uncle at his side. I might not have wheels, but my legs worked. I could start walking until Lena could pick me up.