Presidents That Could’ve Used A Secret Keeper I guess I need to start by telling you what secret keeper does? In my latest book, I spin a tale of a girl named Winter who makes a mistake on prom night. Desperate to hide her foolish indiscretion, she is driven to the house of the woman a stranger in the park called, “The Secret Keeper”. The woman tells her that The Secret Keeper can make it like it never happened. However, there were three binding rules. Rule 1. You only get one secret, ever. Rule 2. You will remember your misdeed, even when no one else does. Rule 3. I’ll tell you what it is soon… |
Now, back to our beloved and powerful presidents. To be truthful, they all could’ve used a secret keeper at one time or another, but today I want to focus on three major blunders that I’m sure our presidents would’ve sold their souls to erase. The first comes from an era before my time. This president boldly claimed, “I AM NOT A CROOK.” –President Nixon. Unfortunately for him, there were mountains of evidence to prove otherwise. Too bad he didn’t appoint a secret keeper for in his cabinet. |
Next is one of my favorite presidential guffaws. Under oath this leader of the free world boldly claimed, “I did not have sexual relations with that woman.” President Clinton. Isn’t that just like a lawyer to try to get off on a technicality? I bet he wishes he had kept a secret keeper on retainer. Silly, silly man! |
Am I picking on our presidents? A little, but wouldn’t it be interested if they had a way to make their secrets and lies disappear like Winter does in The Secret Keeper, book 1.
As for rule number three, it states that the next time you have a secret, you will not be able to tell it to anyone, no matter how hard you try. This is the rule that turns Winter’s life upside down changing it and her forever and most certainly would’ve caused problems not just for our presidents but also for the entire US!
As for me, I’m glad our presidents didn’t have a secret keeper and when you read The Secret Keeper, book 1, you’ll totally understand whyJ

Curious to learn more?
Read an excerpt from The Secret Keeper here: Over and over in my head I repeated, “She can make my secret go away.” I’m not sure if I was trying to convince myself, or trying to keep myself from going nuts, but the phrase calmed me as I drove. I found Lejo Street and began the steep climb to the top. The houses in this neighborhood were small. Most were weathered if not completely forgotten. Pines grew too close together. Piles of rusted tools and long-forgotten bathroom fixtures littered the landscape, hidden only by overgrown grasses and neglected Quakies. No wonder everyone thought it was creepy.
My heart rate quickened with the ascent, and my palms left sticky sweat on my steering wheel. I wiped them on my jeans only to have the moisture build up again immediately. Soon there was nothing but dense forest; a blur of green, broken only by the ashen skies above. The rain came down in unyielding sheets and I turned up the windshield wipers. Back and forth they went like a giant metronome, keeping in step with my nervous heartbeat.
I strained to see out the windows until all at once there was nothing in front me but a large rusted metal gate and a cracked wood sign, painted long ago, that declared, “No trespassing.” Beyond the gate, through the trees and the rain, I saw the pale blue house that the girl in the park had described.
One more time I said out loud, “She can make my secret disappear.” I’d almost convinced myself now. I had to be convinced, what with the dilapidated house in the middle of nowhere and the stormy weather. Everything screamed “Don’t go in!” but I was driven to try something, anything, not to lose my best friend and boyfriend.
I climbed from the car and ran until I reached the porch, slipping and having to catch myself as I tried to take the stairs too fast. Light spilled out through a crack in the curtains, letting me know someone was there. I lifted my hand to knock on the old splintered door and froze. I didn’t know the secret keeper’s name. How would I address her? Before I could decide what to do, the heavily scratched door handle turned and the door opened a crack. My mouth fell open. The eyes that peered through the opening were surprisingly young.
My throat felt tight as I swallowed and it sounded loud to me. I could turn and run. Everything in my gut told me to go, but I stood like a marble statue frozen by my anguish.
“Who are you looking for?” she asked. Her melodic voice made me think of dozens of wind chimes all tinkling at once. Still, I felt uneasy.
I made myself spit out the words. “The Secret Keeper.” An excruciatingly long minute passed and I thought she might tell me that I had the wrong house or that I should get off her property. Finally, in a voice no louder than a whisper she said, “Come in. I’m The Secret Keeper.”
Purchase copy of The Secret Keeper here:
Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Angela-Carling/e/B006P15NOG/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
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