Author Nancy Clark Townsend was born and raised in the Inwood section of northern Manhattan, New York City, but lived most of her life in the Lower Hudson Valley of New York State. She has always shared her home with an assortment of dogs and cats, and owned and raced several harness horses. She studied Creative Writing at Empire State College, and took courses offered by “Writer’s Digest”. She has written several romance and suspense novels and is currently working on a personal memoir and an anthology of animal memoirs. She is the editor and writer for “Church Chatter” a newsletter for her church, for which she creates a Bible Word Search and Bible Acrostic. She is now retired from her work as a legal and education secretary. Nancy worked with teachers to write and produce curriculum guides for elementary and high school students. In one, she re-wrote and modernized several of Aesop's Fables. Nancy's son Greg is a police lieutenant in a city in upstate New York. Her daughter Karen, whom she describes as "the incredible soccer mom", lives in Virginia. Her stepson Michael is a Sergeant in the U.S. Army and stationed in Georgia. Among them Nancy has nine grandchildren.
REVIEW: Read a review of Katrina Castaways on Kimberley Dehn's Kept by Cats blog.
INTERVIEW: Latest interview with Nancy by Sylvia L. Ramsey.
INTERVIEW: See the interview of Nancy by Morgen Bailey.
EXCERPT: Take a sneak
peek at The Witness wore Fur:
PROLOGUE
The girl struggled to free herself from the duct tape that bound her wrists and ankles. Thank goodness they had fastened her hands in front of her and hadn’t checked her jeans pocket. She always carried a small pen knife that her father gave her when she was in a Brownie troop. It was easy to free her ankles but she had to use her teeth on the wrists.
She could hear the men laughing and talking in the other room while she worked, and she prayed they wouldn’t come for her too soon. Right now she knew they were drinking – they figured they had plenty of time for her. How foolish she had been to accept a lift from that guy even though she knew him.
Heart pounding, she made her way to the window, thankful that the room was on the first floor. She turned the old-fashioned lock and slowly pushed the lower sash upward. It creaked softly but she doubted they would hear it with all the laughter and the TV in the background. Her poor dog had been barking non-stop since they used a rope to tie him to a tree.
She found the dog quickly. He whimpered happily at seeing her but he obeyed the whispered command for “quiet”. He had almost chewed through the rope, so she sliced it the rest of the way as she wondered what they had done with his collar.
Free at last, they dashed for the nearby woods.
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