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This profile was last updated on 12/25/14  and contains information from public web pages and contributions from the ZoomInfo community.
Local Address: Baltimore, Maryland, United States
Diane Fanning
1002 Lake Drive
Bedford , Virginia 24523
United States

Company Description: Read sample chapters and purchase Diane Fannings true crime books and crime fiction novels
Background

Employment History

Education

  • chemistry degree
    Lynchburg College
167 Total References
Web References
Gone Forever by Diane Fanning
www.dianefanning.com, 25 Dec 2014 [cached]
Diane Fanning
True Crime Author and Crime Novelist
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Gone Forever, Diane Fanning, True Crime
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Susan McFarland, Gone Forever, Diane Fanning
Diane ...
imaginepublicity.com, 16 Feb 2014 [cached]
Diane Fanning
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Behind the Mansion Walls Features Case Based on UNDER THE KNIFE by Diane Fanning
The Green Directory
www.ncrp.org, 25 Nov 2003 [cached]
Diane Fanning, Executive Director (p) 512-473-2172
P.O. Box 1922 Diane.Fanning@gte.net (f) 512-322-9127
About Author Diane Fanning
www.dianefanning.com, 25 Dec 2014 [cached]
Diane Fanning
True Crime Author and Crime Novelist
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"Diane is one of
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Diane Fanning, Baltimore
Diane with her parents and younger brother and sister
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Diane Fanning, Perry Hall High School, chemistry
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Diane Fanning, Janet Evanovich, Borders, Manhattan
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Diane Fanning and Janet Evanovich at a joint booksigning at Borders in Manhattan.
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Diane Fanning, Negril Beach, Jamaica
Diane holding a starfish while snorkeling off Negril Beach in Jamaica
Perish at the Presence of God
www.dianefanning.com, 25 Dec 2014 [cached]
Diane Fanning
True Crime Author and Crime Novelist
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Diane Fanning
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She awoke, flat on her back on a strange bed.Across the room, red boots perched on top of a chest of drawers. he recognized the boots. hey were hers. ut she did not recognize the chest of drawers, its finish darkened almost black by age. o pictures on the walls. o books on shelves. o mementoes of someone's life. here was nothing in sight to jog her memory. here was she?And how did she get here? Her hands swarmed over her body.All her garments were right where they should be found. he felt the soft cotton of the t-shirt, the firmness of the bra beneath. er fingers touched the rough denim of her jeans, floated over the lump of panty leg elastic. he looked down at her stocking feet. he rose from bed and winced. very muscle screamed protest at the slightest movement. he rattled the doorknob.Locked. he went to the window across from the door and pulled up the blinds. n the other side of the glass, shutters tightly sealed away the view.Panic started in the center of her chest. he rushed to the other window with a prayer on my lips.It, too, was cut off from the outside world by shutters. Where was she?Maybe she should know. hat did she know?She knew she was Cici, short for Cecilia Taylor, born and raised in Poteet. he knew she was a recent graduate of Southwest Texas State University, living at home with her parents while she looked for a job. "Am I still in Poteet?"When she realized she had spoken aloud, she squirmed in discomfortAnd, still, she had not answered the big question. Again, she searched the room for some clue to her location. he opened a door next to the dresser…nothing but a closet. othing on the floor. othing on the shelf. othing on the closet rod except for four empty, misshapen coat hangers. She turned back to the dresser to rifle through drawers. othing in any of them except in the bottom one, where a folded spare blanket lay. he picked it up, shook it out, nothing more. She opened the drawer of the nightstand. nside she found a bible-a red leather Scofield Reference Bible.Brown wear spots on the edge of the spine showed that someone had handled it quite often.Gold letters on the lower right hand corner spelled out the name of the owner, Millicent Pearsall. he name jogged something deep in her memory banks, troubled her momentarily, then flew away. She looked back at the bed.Its wooden frame had the same age-darkened finish as the chest of drawers. n a couple of spots, something had recently scratched thin, deep lines into the wood. white chenille bedspread-the kind everyone's grandmother had-was worn thin as dust allowing a pale shimmer of blue from the blanket beneath to shine through it. Down on all fours, she looked under the bed.Nothing but a few stray dust bunnies. he room held no clues to its owner with the exception of that Bible. he name Millicent Pearsall danced in faded gold before her eyes.Again, she could not jiggle loose anything meaningful. She closed her eyes and sniffed deeply. he room smelled stuffy.Sitting down on the bed's edge, she focused her energy on listening.
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Diane Fanning
diane@dianefanning.com
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