Six Essential Elements Every Love Story Needs

What's your favourite romance novel? Now think of your favourite scene from that novel. Is it the ending when, despite the obstacles, both leads get their happily ever after? Or is it the first kiss...or the first fight?

Regardless, there are more players on stage and circumstances that helped create the tension/opportunity/obstacle that led to your favourite scene.

Here are a few handy tips for making sure your own romance story has the right support system for those unforgettable scenes!

Six Essential Elements Your Romance Novel Needs

1. The Rival

There needs to be a rival for the protagonist’s romantic intentions, but this doesn't necessarily mean a love triangle. This could be someone who takes time away from the romantic interest as well.

In my upcoming contemporary romance, The Right Fit, Antony is desperate to reconnect with Maxine, but his brother Marc is a controller and feels it's his responsibility to shape Antony into a successful pro-hockey player, regardless of what Antony truly desires.

2. Helpers vs Harmers

As you can guess, helpers are characters who assist in enabling the relationship grow while harmers are motivated to keep the couple apart. It should be noted that a helper can sometimes unwittingly become a harmer. It's common in romantic comedies to have a character who is truly invested in the couple's happiness, but ends up becoming bad luck by always doing or saying the wrong thing at the worst time, thereby taking the role of harmer.

In my novel, Maxine has enthusiastic support from her younger sister. However, in the end it's her own self doubt that is the most destructive harmer to her relationship with Antony.

3. External Need

This mechanism acts as a motivation that brings the two characters together.

As an example, Antony is certain his new found luck on the ice is entirely due to his one night with Maxine. Desperate to stay in the professional hockey league to pay his brother's medical bills and support them both, Antony pursues Maxine at all costs, including keeping his true identity a secret. As a result Maxine is overwhelmed by his attention and begins to believe she can love again after having her heart broken by her ex-fiancé.

4. Secrets

One or both leads are keeping something from the other. The motivation for not telling the truth must be greater than the risk to the relationship.

In The Right Fit, Antony is not only keeping his true identity a secret, but also the fact that he considers Maxine his good luck charm and is using her to keep his hockey career on course. Meanwhile, Maxine considers Antony a rebound, as a way of getting her confidence back and helping her forget about her ex.

However, it's important to acknowledge that characters often lie to themselves to justify their actions/decisions.

5. Rituals

These are the cute little idiosyncrasies a couple naturally develops with each other, those shared intimacies that only they know about.

It's most effective to use when the couple is apart and something triggers the memory for one of the leads. This can motivate a change of heart at the realization that they truly need that person in their life. *cue the rush to the airport to stop their true love from leaving forever*

As a result of mistaken identity, Maxine assumes Antony's name is Ace. This leads to a nickname which creates a moment like the one described above as the name 'Ace' pops up when Maxine least expects it. 
Maxine rolled her eyes and instead told her to pick out a nail color for them both. It was a bright ruby shade and when Maxine looked at the name on the bottom of the bottle, her heart filled and then slowly deflated—Ace of Hearts.

6. Moral Weight

In essence, the moral weight is how the lovers changed for the better over the course of the novel. It's always satisfying for the reader if the ending scene is a mirror opposite to the beginning where their flaws were highlighted.

At the beginning of The Right Fit, Maxine was still trying to find a way back into her ex-fiancé's arms convinced he was the only man she could have a life with. And Antony was carrying a secret guilt fueled by the belief he didn't deserve to be loved. By the end of the story, Maxine realizes she's beautiful and desirable enough for any man and Antony's past sins didn't preclude him from happiness.

Thanks for reading. I hope you found this useful! Happy writing! THE RIGHT FIT is available now at the Wild Rose Press and all major online retailers


Daphne Dubois writes steamy contemporary romance and loves putting her characters in awkward situations. She believes the right book at the right time can make all the difference.

Sugary sands and stories in my head.

Clear blue water. Sugary sands. Salty air. Those are just a few of the things I fell in love with July 2010 in Orange Beach, AL. If you remember, that was right after the horrible oil spill that tainted the waters and the beaches. A devastating event. Even so, my family had a wonderful vacation. And the wheels in my head began spinning.

While walking along the shore, I kept envisioning a beach bar owned by a hot alpha male. Of course he would have a dangerous past that left him injured and betrayed. Running the bar was his new life. He was done with danger… and women. So, what kind of woman would tempt this man and twist his heart like no one ever had? A strong New Orleans lady, of course. A woman who witnessed a horrific murder and drug deal. Strong willed, but she would still need protection.

The ideas ran rampant in my head. I just knew a beach setting would have readers lost in soaking up the sun, squishing sand between their toes, and tasting the salty air. It sucked me in. Hard. So in order to share a little piece of paradise that I experienced that summer (and several since then), I set out with Abby and Graeme’s story in Smoke and Mirrors.

I am such a summer, beach person. Where else would I have my hero’s and heroine’s stories take place?

Taylor Anne
www.tayloranne.net

7 Elements Every Scene Should Have

Imagine your novel as a storyboard; a series of graphic organizers (sticky notes on the wall above your writing desk) displayed in sequence for the purpose of visualizing your story.

Each sticky note represents a scene with a brief description or illustration detailing what happens.

Now, pick one sticky note.

Is this scene essential to moving the plot forward?

Could it be more effective at another point in the story or should it be pulled off the wall and out of your novel completely?

If you're not sure, go down this check list and see if your scene has what it takes to keep the reader interested.

Using THE RIGHT FIT as an example, I'll be taking excerpts from Chapter three, the scene where Maxine and Antony meet for the first time.

1. Setting 

Ground the reader in place and time, but instead of saying it was a hot morning, describe how your protagonist is already sweating in their shorts and flip flops at the breakfast table.


Chapter three of THE RIGHT FIT is from Maxine's point of view and it's obvious from the beginning she's uncomfortable with this setting.

       Maxine was already lonesome for her bed and laptop as Crosby pulled her through the crowd. A line had been snaking along the sidewalk when they’d pulled up in the cab, but Crosby knew the doorman—she always knew the doorman. Maxine cringed under the glare from the other patrons still waiting outside in the frigid late February night as they were swept inside.
      “Is it always like this?” Maxine asked, shouting above the music.
      “Of course,” Crosby said, smiling widely. “Uniun is the hottest dance club in Toronto.”


2. Tension

What's at stake for the protagonist? What is preventing them from reaching their story goal? There should be some kind of conflict in every scene.

Too embarrassed to tell them that she was stood up, Maxine lies to her friends about her botched blind date, but then the guy shows up!

       "A mojito with extra mint leaves for the cougar,” Stuart teased. Then he nodded toward a group of guys even younger than he and Westley. “Crosby tells me you’re in the market for meaningless sex. I think delta-gamma-go-all-night over there is a good start. Might as well go for the sure thing.” He squinted across the room, then added, “Or sure things if you’re feeling adventurous.”
       Over Stuart’s shoulder, Maxine saw a slim man with a crewcut walking through the crowd, a pint of beer in one hand. “Oh God!” She panicked. It was the divorced high school teacher with a phobia for dentists.
     She spied the neon sign for the washrooms, then grabbed her clutch, and quickly left the table. Stuart called out something, but the music was so loud it drowned out his words.


3. Emotions

Show how your characters are feeling. Describe body language. Connect the reader to the POV's emotional state. Don't forget about senses.

Ah! Their first kiss...

“Hide me!” Maxine blurted out.
        He frowned back at her, not understanding.
        The crew cut was about to pass them, he was only seconds away from seeing Maxine in her stained dress, her breasts covered in food.
        She panicked. What would Alexis Colby do?
        “Est-ce que—”
        Maxine never heard the rest of his question. His words disappeared against her lips as she grabbed him by the t-shirt and pulled him to her, pressing them both against the wall.
      She breathed in a spicy scent, and his stubble grazed her chin. Shocked by her own actions, Maxine stayed locked in the embrace. The kiss was chaste, but as the seconds passed with neither one moving from the other, the moment changed, becoming heavier, more charged.
     She was all too aware of the warmth of his lips, the pressure of his mouth against hers. Then he leaned back. His surprised expression matched her sputtering pulse. “Merci, Ms. Dior,” he said.     
      Maxine blinked a few times, her footing felt wrong, like the floor was tipping. “I…uh,” she started. “Sorry about that. I must have slipped.”

4. Dialogue

Employ key phrases for characters, but be careful of repetition. Nail the voice. Does it move the plot forward or is it just chit chat?

Since Antony is French, their first conversation in a loud dance club gets construed, but his assumption that her name is Ms. Dior is quickly established as her nickname and is played out as a cute quirk between the two of them as the novel progresses.

 “Est-ce que ça va?” he asked, bending down closer to her ear.
       “Excuse me?”
        His look of concern melted into a wide-eyed stare. “Belle rousse?” he said.
       “Bathrooms?” Maxine shouted up at him. “They’re down the hall.”
        He gave her a mischievous grin. “Are you okay?” His gaze wandered her face, then lowered and fixated on her chest.
       She looked down and saw her green dress was stained, and the extra mint leaves from her drink had settled in between her ample breasts like some kind of cleavage dam. A wave of mortified embarrassment collapsed over her. And in addition to everything else, the outfit was ruined. Carmine would be so upset. “It’s vintage Dior,” she said, her voice crumbling a bit.
       A complicated series of frowns played across his features. “I can pay for dry cleaning,” he offered. There was a pause, then he added, “Ms. Dior.”



5. Action

Action can be as simple as your protagonist finally calling up her secret crush, or as complex as a car chase through road blocks and marching bands.

       Standing against the wall in a daze, Maxine watched his broad for cut a path through the crowded bar. What the hell had she just done? Maybe he was going to tell a bouncer about her. She could imagine the conversation. “There’s a large woman in an old tight dress grabbing guys by the bathroom.”
       “No problem, sir, we’ll have her contained immediately. Grab the tranquilizer gun!”
        Snickering to her left snapped her back to attention. Two girls who looked barely old enough to drink were standing in skintight dresses with their heads together laughing behind manicured nails, cutting glances across the way. Maxine stood wearing her stained vintage Dior that now seemed musty and antique.
        Expecting to be tossed for violating hot lumberjacks, Maxine rushed to the closest exit, not even bothering to get her coat. The sharp winter air almost took her breath away. 


6. Internalization

Internalization is what the character is thinking, it takes the general and makes it personal. It's a great tool for handling infodumps, just make sure to keep it in their voice (let them internalize and judge what they’re thinking about) then it comes across more naturally.

Maxine opened her clutch and looked at her phone. She’d actually gone fifty-five minutes without thinking about him. That was a record. But now, of course he was all she could think about. Did he think about her? Did he miss having coffee in bed on Sunday mornings while she read the comics and he did the crossword—he always used a pen, never a pencil. She loved that confidence about him. In fact, she still had the last puzzle he’d done.
      The familiar stone lodged itself in her heart. She loved Johnny. She still loved Johnny. They had been together for four years.
      Four years!
      Four years of sharing and dreaming. Four years of walking through Umbra making imaginary purchases for their future home. Four years of waiting in the arrivals at the airport every time he came home—she was always there to meet him.
     And four years of walks in the park when they would make spontaneous plans, like the time they decided to adopt a rescue dog…except neither one of them filled out the forms.
      Four years.
     The burden of all that time was too much for Maxine to ignore. She simply refused to accept all that time, all that work with Johnny was for nothing.


7. Hook

A development the reader wasn't expecting that throws more conflict toward the protagonist, and keeps the reader invested and turning the pages.

       The cabbie beeped his horn and swore at the traffic, unable to pull into the lane.
       “I have no place I need to be,” Maxine said, picturing her bed and laptop. She thought back to the kiss with the stranger and how foolish she must have seemed to him. “Alexis Colby never looks like a fool,” she whispered to herself. “She would have kissed him again—no that’s not right. She would have slapped him first, then kissed him back hard, and then left him wanting more.”
        The cab driver narrowed his gaze at her in the rearview mirror.
       “Wouldn’t it be great if life was like 80’s TV?” Maxine asked him. “Everyone was in shoulder pads and size double zero didn’t exist.”
       He shrugged then turned up the radio.
       Maxine hugged her elbows. The traffic lights reflected off her fingernails.
       A sharp blast of frigid air ripped through the backseat. A massive upper body wrapped in a thin cortex jacket jumped in the backseat. Before the cabbie could protest, Maxine turned and was face to face with an ACE Towing ball.

THE RIGHT FIT is available now!

So, how does your scene measure up?

What are some of your favorite scenes from novels?

The Right Fit by Daphne Dubois

Daphne Dubois writes steamy contemporary romance and loves putting her characters in awkward situations. She believes the right book at the right time can make all the difference.

Ghost Walk by Pamela Woods-Jackson

Last night I accompanied a couple of friends on a local ghost walk. It was great fun, but that's not why I'm writing this. My newest book TEENAGE PSYCHIC ON CAMPUS just came out on Friday April 28, and it's all about psychics, spirits, ghosts, and a haunted house. I happened to have a bookmark in my purse, and at an opportune moment I gave it to the tour guide, who is also the author of nonfiction true-haunting books. She seemed pleasantly surprised and promised to mention my book in future walks.

Since we're always looking for ways to promote our books, I thought I'd pass along what I learned last night: Make use of local groups that are in your field of expertise. Women's book groups, ghost hunters, paranormal fans, Bible study, whatever it is, reach out. Your book may be a perfect fit for their next meeting!

Teenage Psychic on Campus by Pamela Woods-Jackson

https://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/all-titles/4981-teenage-psychic-on-campus.html

Heartfelt by Carol Owen

As soon as my first novel, Heartfelt, was published by WRP, April 2016, I started a second romance, titled Love X 2. The idea for it came from something I heard many years ago. I asked a woman how she met her husband, and she said they met at their parents' wedding. I never forgot that, and it became the premise of Love X 2. I finished it recently, and it's now in the hands of my editor. I'm looking forward to her comments.

Meanwhile, I've started book # 3, tentatively titled 6 Steps to Forever.

 

 

 

 

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waited for my betters to be seated. The glittery light of
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Far from the all the action of World War I, in a charming tourist’s spot on Cape Breton Island, Elizabeth Eames has stumbled into the most wonderful man in the world. She’s landed herself in a world where wealth reigns supreme; where any eligible bachelor would meet her mother’s aspirations. Yet something, some terrible thing, is not quite right at the grand resort 'Oceanside.' A patriot, she cannot turn a blind eye... Trouble Cove by Nancy Lindley-Gauthier; available today!

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You Can’t Go Home Again…Unless You’re in a Romance Novel

I grew up in a small town, where the average temperature in the Summer is one-hundred-seven degrees. It’s hot, you guys. HOT.

Yeah, I spent most of my high school years, planning my escape from the heat. When the time came, I left for college and eventually moved on to cooler pastures (hey, Chicago). Then I proceeded to spent the next twenty years trying to get home. No matter where I am, I’m always planning a trip to Arizona. What can I say? I miss the heat.

So when I sat down to plot LOVE OVER LATTES (coming soon from The Wild Rose Press), the setting and theme for it were a very organic choice for me. I went back to the place I called home for four years, Tucson (Go Cats!). NANOWRIMO Day One came and I only knew two things about my story; I wanted it set in the Sonoran Desert and I wanted it to be about going home.

LOVE OVER LATTES is about a young mom who wants to make a home for her son. At first, she doesn’t really understand what that means, and in her obsession to give her son this one thing she believes is important, she goes through a series of less than ideal choices. Like accepting the help of a stranger, an intimidating-as-hell entrepreneur, who’s given up on the whole idea of home and family.

Since this is a get-to-know-the-author blog, I figured I should include some fun facts about me (*waves*):

Three things I’ve done in the name of book research:
1. Jumped off a 50-foot waterfall
2. Watched a lot of porn
3. Drank cases and cases of champagne

Three things I’m obsessed with (because I’m on a roll):
1. Customizable life planners
2. Romance
3. Netflix

Hey, you made it all the way to the bottom of the page. Thank you!

Your turn: Where’s the place you call home? Let me know in the comments below.

For your efforts, we’re giving away (4) $5 Amazon gift cards. Just click on the Facebook Rafflecopter link below and do the widgets in the thingy. Winners will be announced on Monday, May 8th, on my Facebook page before I email the Amazon claim codes. I put a lot of thought into this giveaway, guys. So, do the thing.

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Happy Reading!

Diana Hicks
DianaHicksBooks.com

Am I in Your Book?

When was the last time someone asked you, “Am I in your book?” It’s a reasonable question. Writers often use real people as models for characters in a novel. It’s a pretty good way to get back at the ex. The person who asks you the question might be excited about the possibility of being in the book, or she might be a little scared about how you describe the character modeled on her. It’s scary to think that you might be recognizable as the bitchy neighbor or the gossip down the street.

For the setting of my mystery/thriller novel Sacrificial Lam, I used the small college campus where I taught for many years. Word soon got out to my old colleagues—faculty and administration—and to the many alumni to whom I am connected on line. The question began to appear in my inbox—“Am I in your book?”
One morning I stopped by my favorite coffee shop, Pour Jon’s, and as I waited for my vanilla latte, inhaling the rich odor of dark beans being ground, I noticed the college chaplain sitting in a booth by the stairs. He waved and smiled. “I heard about your book,” he said. “Does it have an evil chaplain in it?” The book does not, in fact, have a chaplain in it at all, but I thought that’s an idea. So I said, “No, but he may show up in the next book in the series.” I couldn’t tell whether he was disappointed or gratified.
A couple of days later, the college choral director and chair of the Music Department responded to my Facebook promotion with, “Is there a creepy choral director in your book?” Again, the book does not, in fact, have a choral director at all, but again I thought not a bad idea. So I said, “No, but he may show up in the next book in the series.” I happen to know this choral director pretty well. We used to play golf together once a week. In his case I was pretty certain that he was both disappointed that he wasn’t in the novel and gratified that I would surely put him in the next one.

I did put a few of my old colleagues in the novel, not particularly well disguised, just for fun. One of them, a psychologist, read parts of an early draft to check its validity and give me ideas for types of disorders. But after talking to the chaplain and the choral director, I started imagining how I would respond to certain people when they popped the question.

What would I say if the college president saw me at the local Thai café and said, “Is there a diabolical college president in your novel?” Since I’m retired now and don’t have to worry about my job, I could say, “No, I was afraid you would sue the pants off me for defamation of character.” He was a lawyer in a previous life, Harvard Law School, in fact.

What if the CFO, the Chief Financial Officer, saw me at the bank, standing in line to make a deposit, and said, “Is there a conniving CFO in your novel?” I could say, “No, but for a price I can make you the hero of the next book in the series.” A ludicrous attempt to solicit a bribe, you might say, but worth a try.

I’m beginning to see the real value of the question, “Am I in your novel?” It could become the wellspring of concepts for future books. Or it could become a vehicle for revenge. And if I’m really lucky, it could be the goose that lays the golden egg. I can live with that.

Gary Guinn

http://garyguinn.com

Writer: Sacrificial Lam

A Late Flooding Thaw
https://www.facebook.com/garyguinnwriter/
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/585203.Gary_Guinn

 

Falling in love is a lot like icing the perfect cake

I love to bake and have since I graduated college and moved out, taking my mom’s old mixer with me. Growing up in an Italian household, everything was homemade. There wasn’t a boxed caked mix or slice and bake cookies in my house growing up. Ever. Over the past few months I’ve taken a few cake decorating classes with my teenage son, who aspires to own a bakery one day. I figured it would be fun for him to learn the correct way to do things, my kitchen wouldn’t get messy, and we’d get to eat the end product. A win-win for all involved!

So far, we’ve learned the perfect way to ice a cake (which involves lots of icing, practice, and patience), how to personalize party cakes, and piping techniques. In many ways, it’s a lot like learning how to be a writer and falling in love! There’s lots of trial and error. Sometimes it works out and sometimes it doesn’t. If at first you don’t succeed, try and try again!

Later this month we’re taking classes on cupcake decorating and how to decorate a cake (putting all the elements together). I’ve learned a few good tips, one of which is that bakers are perfectionists. I’ve also learned there’s a lot of improvising in baking, much like cooking. I’ve had to modify pretty much every baked good recipe since my son has multiple food allergies, one of which is to milk. Substituting soy or rice milk for cow’s milk can change the consistency of a recipe. Even using a dairy-free butter has its challenges. I’ve also been experimenting with vegan recipes with mixed results. But we’re having fun…and eating cake.

Taking these classes has given me a greater appreciation for what a full
-time baker goes through. I’ve bought more baking accessories the past few months than I’ve ever had. From multiple sized icing bags, to many icing tips, tip holder, couplers, turntable, cake circles, cake leveler (who knew?), proper icing colors, spatulas, and probably more.

What do you think?

The heroine from my contemporary romance, FOREVER IN MY HEART, is a pastry chef. Vicky owns a hot new bakery and café in Northeast Philadelphia and has cornered the market on baked goods. Now, I imagine if I baked hours a day six or seven days a week, it would all become super easy, but right now, it takes time to do things the right way. It was fun writing Vicky’s character because I got to channel my love of sweets into her bakery. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll open that bakery with my son. That would be my dream come true! I could bake in the early morning and then write. Now that I think about it, I better make sure we open a location near a gym!

***
EXCERPT:

She pulled at the same moment he did, which resulted in the top box flying off and landing with a plop on the concrete.
Time stood still, and he was about to let out a nervous laugh. That is, until he caught the shocked expression on her face quickly turning to pissed off and ready to boil over.
“Dammit. I told you I had them,” she yelled.
So much for trying to help.
After releasing his grasp, she stored the boxes in the trunk.
“I’m sorry. If you would have just let me—”
“Next time mind your own business,” she said, placing her hands on her hips.
When did she get those glorious hips? And how about the sexy gleam of anger in her eyes?
With the smartass comeback he’d been ready to fire back at her forgotten, he stopped to take in her attire. She’d curled her long brown hair, which ran down past her shoulders. The green sundress was cut low, revealing a magnificent pair of breasts. Clearly she hadn’t finished developing the summer before he enlisted. The dress hugged a slim waist, ending at the middle of her thigh.
Jamie’s heart thudded with lust. Disgusted by his pure male reaction to this gorgeous woman, he’d crossed his arms over his stomach and hoped he appeared cooler than he felt.
He reached down, picked up the fallen box, and handed it to her. “If I minded my own business, you’d be scraping up the contents of all these boxes off the cement instead of only one. So maybe you should show the teensiest bit of gratitude.”
She opened the lid to reveal cannolis, half of which were broken.
What was it with him and broken cannolis?

***
About Forever in My Heart:

Vicky DiFrancesco is ready to put the past behind her. After a humiliating divorce, she’s determined to make her new café a success. The last thing she needs is her first love around, reminding her of what they’d lost. But when her life is threatened, could he be the very man she needs?

Jamie DiSilva’s homecoming after retiring from the army isn’t the one he’d been hoping for. Now, he’s trying to start a home improvement business in a town settled on holding him accountable for the sins of his late brothers. Redeeming himself to the girl he never stopped loving and her family is difficult when his brothers’ secrets come back to haunt him.

Untangling themselves from the past means righting several wrongs and deciding if their love is meant to last forever.

From now through April 21st, Forever in My Heart is on sale for only $1.99! You can pick it up at:

Amazon: http://bit.ly/15L7L3x
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1zs7kSU
The Wild Rose Press: http://bit.ly/2nNZvJs
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1BmdBUc
iBookstore: http://bit.ly/1AGh4i6
Google Play: http://bit.ly/1xe0ZAH


Maria K. Alexander
Award-winning Contemporary Romance
http://mariakalexander.com

Discover Arnold Greenberg

My two Wild Rose ebooks, Max and Rosie and Taking Chances explore the emotional complexity of adultery. In Max and Rosie, his wife, the love of his life, is dying of Alzheimer's and no longer recognizes him, and though he is falling in love with Robin, their live in nurse, he remains faithful until she dies. In Taking Chances, Catherine loves her husband, Martin but is no longer in love and yearns for the intensity she experiences in the romance books she devours. She accidentally meets Tom and finds herself swept off her feet by his passion for life. Breaking her marriage vow is the hardest thing she has ever done. She feels she is living a lie and has to take a chance and follow her heart.

Their stories are about choices and integrity. Was Max being foolish honoring his marriage vows when Rosie doesn't even know he's her husband? Was Catherine wrong to take a chance and leave a loveless marriage, break her husband's heart and seek happiness?

 

To read more

http://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/2222_arnold-greenberg

The Gentleman Refused to Move!

What beautiful aristocratic ward of the Duke of Althorn was seen in the company of Lord Claven, son of the viscount? The chandeliers in the ballroom flickered in waves on the decorated ceiling casting undulating shadows against the walls as he danced her through the French doors and on to the terrace. Out of sight, but not out of hearing, this reporter heard him say, “It’s such a crush in there. I thought you’d appreciate a breath of fresh air.”

Through my quizzing glass, I saw the gentleman, and I use the word lightly, place her back against the rock wall, and station himself in front of her, enclosing the woman in a vise-lock embrace. “You are breathtaking in candlelight.”

I overheard the lady in question protest in a loud voice. “What do you think you’re doing? Do you speak such words to every woman you lure away in the dark?” She pushed him back. Her sardonic laugh was one intended to insult, not inflame his untoward ardor.

“Most likely, it usually entices ladies to explore.”

“That’s probably the most honest admission you’ve made tonight. Don’t come closer. I warn you.”

“Honesty only goes so far, when I want to do so much more. I know you have a fondness for that…bastard.” He hesitated.

“Don’t go there,” she cautioned the lord.

“We all know what Thorn is. He’s had the good fortune to have a high placed aristocrat accept him.”

Her words were loud and clear. “I warn you, Claven. I pack a wicked punch.”

“I know he’s trained you in horsemanship. Perhaps he has trained you in other areas too? Like kissing?”

I brought my monocle closer to see her face. Her lips moved quickly and apparently in anger. “I now prefer to return to the ball.” She attempted to move away.

“No,” he said. His voice was gruff to be sure.

“Kindly remove your body from my path.”

Horrors, the gentleman refused to move!

“You lured me here, my darling.” Now he pinned her against the wall.

I could see that she held her reticule between them.

“You have a vivid imagination.” She attempted to move again. “All right then,” and quicker than quick, she sent her fist to his cheek.

Caught unaware, he stumbled to the side, his hand upon his jaw.

I then saw her walk by him with a grin. “Thank you.” The sound of her voice echoed a small triumph. “You can thank Thorn Wick, the duke’s son, for teaching me fisticuffs. Come near me again, and I’ll plaster your face against a wall.”

She exited in a rush and straightened her gown only to run into Mr. Wick. With a casual attitude, she said, “You did teach me the art of boxing. I merely employed that education to accomplish my purpose.”

And what did he answer?  “Indeed it appears you did. I’ll have to discipline him, I see.”

What has our Regency world come to when a lady is not safe with a lord?

Arthur Spectator, Senior reporter, Teatime Traveler

About the Book

After three years in England, Thorn Wick, the duke’s bastard son, perfectly flawed, still fights for acceptance in his father’s world as a renowned Argamak Turk  horse trainer. Just when he starts to believe in fairy tales, another obstacle looms to thwart his plans: on a dangerous mission to Barbados, Thorn is stunned when secrets are revealed about his mother. Will he exact revenge for the foul deed?

Alicia Montgomery, ward of the duke, is in love with Thorn. Strong willed and adventurous, she determines she can convince him to admit his feelings. But the reality of loving Thorn too much almost destroys her.

Can Alicia quell Thorn’s demons and prove love can pave the way to their happiness to fulfill their destiny?

A Regency Romance with an Element of Suspense

About the Author

From a humble beginning in Newark, New Jersey, a short stay at a convent in Morristown, N.J. at the age of fourteen, Sandra Masters retired from a fantastic career for a play broadcasting company in Carlsbad, California, and settled in the rural foothills of the Sierras of Yosemite National Park with her husband, Ron, and two dogs, Silky and Sophie. She traded in the Board Rooms for the Ballrooms of the Regency Era and never looked back.

She wrote her first book at the age of thirteen and since then she’s always traveled with pen and notebook for her writing experiences. It’s been the journey of ten thousand miles with a few steps left to go. She deemed it a pleasure to leave the corporate world behind decades later.

Nothing she expected, but everything she desired. Her business card lists her occupation as Living The Dream.

Why This Title?

Why did I write my latest book, SEX, LIES, & THE SPACETIME PINCH? If I let you in on my original title, “Hug a Tree,” it might give you a clue. When that phrase was first bandied about, it stuck in my mind. One of the concerns high on my list is protecting our environment, and I was pleased to find places where I could inveigle that idea into my story.

Also cooking on a back burner was a comment made by a psychologist friend. He believed that the majority of ills leading to aggression and wars came about through sexual guilt. I pondered that notion for some time and one night, when I couldn’t fall asleep and passed the time dreaming up plots, the two ideas came together. What if a fantastic planet existed where sex in all its various forms, and as thrilling as sex can be, was available for everyone, totally without guilt?

And what if this “paradise” was threatened?

One more important element: I wanted romance––and a happy ending. All the major plot points danced in my head as I dreamed up a feisty heroine, an alpha male handsome hero, and a trip to outer space (loved adding a smidgen of science fiction, with its allure of danger and wild imagination). One love story didn’t seem enough; I needed different personalities reacting to my guilt-free-sex planet, so three other couples were added in lesser roles.

There you have it. Utopian erotica. A brand new settlement and a brand new lifestyle. And did I mention robots? Every good story has some comic relief (ask Shakespeare).

I hope you’ll have as much titillating fun reading SEX, LIES, & THE SPACETIME PINCH as I had writing it.
--Vee Bentley
veebentleypinch@gmail.com

BONDING by Sharon Ervin

On one overly warm Sunday afternoon, I phoned and invited Molly and Quincy, two teen-aged granddaughters––cousins to each other––to go “alley walking” with me. These girls are intense, and keep to tight schedules even in the summer. Puzzled by my invitation, they agreed.

No cell phones allowed, except mine, which was off.

As we ambled along, talking and seeing all the interesting stuff one sees in back yards, Molly asked me to tell her “my plan for this walk.”

“No plan,” I said. “We’ll walk until we get tired, then we’ll turn toward home.”

She scowled. “I mean, what’s our schedule?”

“No schedule. No structure. No plan,” I said. “We’re just going to walk and talk and see stuff.”

Along the way, I pointed out the back of the large frame house where their great, great grandfather lived when he came to McAlester on horseback with one of his brothers. It was the beginning of the 20th Century.

“The house was called ‘The Batch,’” I said. “Joe Johnson was 21 years old, just a few years older than you are now. It was a rooming house for young, single men. He took his meals there. His brother John rode on, but your great, great granddaddy liked McAlester and decided to stay. With money his dad had given him, he began a wholesale grocery venture. He worked hard and did well. He married the daughter of a local doctor, and had a family. He was a Presbyterian. His wife had been the first infant baptized in the Episcopal church here. Joe was a mason, a charter member of the Elks club and the country club and several other civic and social organizations.”

The girls asked questions and drew mental pictures of their common ancestor and what his life was like, pictured him walking down this same alley behind this same house all those years ago.

An hour later, after we had marveled at swimming pools and bunny cages, even a bobcat in a coop, my son, Molly’s dad, stopped his car at an intersection. He had been looking for us.

“Anyone want a ride?” he asked, arching his eyebr

We were perspiring freely by then. None of the three of us responded. I was leaving it up to the girls.

“Actually, Dad,” Molly said finally, “I think I’ll stay with Nana, if you don’t mind.”

“How about if we all go have ice cream?” A tempting offer, indeed.

“Maybe later, Dad.”

Obviously taken aback, he looked at me. I shrugged.

“Dad, did you know about ‘The Batch’?” his daughter asked.

He nodded and grinned, enlightened, then regarded me again.
“You told them about their great, great grandfather, did you?”

It was my turn to grin. “Yes.”

He laughed remembering alley walking with his brother and sisters years before, and his dad, my husband, telling stories about generations of his family involved in the development of our hometown.

“I could leave the car here and go with you,” he offered.

Molly said sweetly, “No, thanks, Dad. We’ll catch up with you later.”

The girls and I walked a while longer before we turned toward home, sweating, relaxed, and closer than before. There were no electronics involved.

Read MEMORY, my newest romantic/suspense novel, in print or online at http://r20.rs6.net/tn.jsp?f=001jYBgN4_ak8cH5cCSYu8uj-

www.sharonervin.com

What’s a Mother To Do? Brit’s Eye View

The Civil War, the War between the States, what divided a nation? Principles surely but like most wars money figured into the equation
.
The principles are a worthier topic.

Map showing the Southern states and the order of secession.

The Northern States denied the right of secession, claiming that the union was a "federal" one and the attempt at separation was rebellion. The Southern States claimed that the Union was a "confederation" from which any member is entitled to separate itself. The British Government under Henry John Temple (3rd Viscount Palmerston) declined to judge between them.
Popular sentiment in England was passionately divided, not quite as much as in their former colonies, but a violent feeling against slavery met an equally vehement advocacy of the South for the right of self-government. Since the South fought against heavy odds, the sporting British people were drawn to the underdog (the Confederacy).

Palmerston’s government was determined to maintain a strict neutrality. This, to most intents and purposes, it succeeded in doing though their cotton industry suffered direly. The blockades of the Southern ports cut off supplies of raw cotton upon which the Lancashire cotton industry was dependent. The cotton famine deprived many Lancashire operatives of their means of livelihood, putting more pressure on the government to aid the South.

The Trent Affair increased sympathy with the South in England and very nearly involved Great Britain in the war. The Southerners dispatched two commissioners, one to England and one to France. The commissioners reached a neutral port and embarked on a British vessel, the Trent. A Union warship boarded The Trent and the commissioners were carried off. A declaration of war was only averted when President Lincoln gave way to the demands of the British Government and released the commissioners.

If Britain had entered the war on the side of the South, history might have been quite different, but the worthier topic of principles would not have been as well served perhaps.
The Union had its own cause for complaint against England. Ships built and fitted out in British docks, sailed from British ports apparently harmless intent, were employed by the Confederacy as cruisers. The most notorious instance was the Alabama. The British Government repudiated the Union’s charge that the English had not displayed due diligence in preventing such actions. When the war ended with the Union the victor, claims for damages were brought against the British for the Confederates’ use of the cruisers.

Her General in Gray was inspired by the Ghost & Mrs. Muir, not by the Civil War. Here is the blurb and a short excerpt. See what you think of this Confederate General.

BLURB: Autumn Hartley purchases Allen Hall at a steal, but the northern lass gets far more than a beautiful plantation in the South Carolina Low Country. The house comes complete with its own ghost, a handsome and charming Civil War General—for the Confederacy. The stage is set for another civil conflict.

John Sibley Allen died in battle from a wound in the back, the bullet fired by the turncoat, Beauregard Dudley. The traitor’s reincarnation is Autumn the Interloper’s first dinner guest. Sib bedevils her date and annoys her with fleeting, phantom touches, certain he can frighten her away as he did previous purchasers. As time marches on, her resident ghost becomes more appealing while her suitor, Beau, pales in comparison. Autumn finds her ability to love didn’t perish in the divorce that sent her south seeking a fresh start.

After over a century in the hereafter, Sib discovers he is falling for none other than the feisty Yankee girl, but what future could a modern woman and an old-fashioned ghost possibly hope for?

EXCERPT:

“You are not there.” Autumn dropped her book and leapt to her feet, shaking her fist at the apparition standing beside the fireplace.

The frolicking blaze shone through the whatever-he-was lounging by the hearth, his arm stretched along the mantel. A ceramic clock beside his hand chimed the hour—seven golden notes. Tall candles in brass candlesticks flickered in an eerie fire dance. He appeared to be a Civil War soldier of the South, his opaque uniform gray with a nasty red-stained hole near the heart. Double rows of gold buttons decorated the coat. Three gold stars and a wreath on the collar glittered in the firelight. No blood spilled from the apparition. Except for his wound, he looked perfectly healthy—for a dead man! He nodded and bowed elegantly...as much so as his lost society had been, regardless of the strong backs supporting that way of life.

“Oh, but I am, Miss Hartley.” He straightened, longish hair gently curling over his face.

A chill raced over her, but she suppressed the tremor of apprehension. Autumn swallowed hard and adjusted her white cotton blouse. “I don’t believe in ghosts. You’re not welcome here. I bought this house and am struggling to pay for it. Get your Halloween self out of my living room.”

He smiled. “It’s not Halloween, and we share this house. It was mine, you know, and still is. I’m willing to share it with you—even if you are a Yankee. After all, the conflict is over, and I’ll hold no grudge against the Northern aggressors. Even though the South will never surrender.”

“Northern aggressors?” She inhaled sharply, the vanilla scent of the candles on the dining room table drifting into the living room. Everything about Allen Hall was beautiful. She loved the house. But this conversation with an arrogant spirit solidified defiance. “And, for your information, the South did surrender.”

“A point of history.” He shrugged and gave her a condescending glance. “No more.”

Pre-order at http://a.co/3wEoU5A

Linda Nightingale - Author

Out of the Ordinary..Into Extraordinary Realms

http://www.lindanightingale.com

http://www.lindanightingale.wordpress.com

From Minnesota With Love: Surviving My "Ice Age!"

History was my favorite subject in school. Westerns were my favorite TV shows. My favorite books ranged from mystery to historical romance. Every movie on my favorite list is a historical. So when I began my first novel, guess what? It was a 19th century historical romance epic that took years of research, spanning several states I personally had to visit.

         Birthweight was more than a ream of paper. And when I was told by agents or publishers that it was too long, or “sorry, try again,” I wrapped it in cellophane and boxed it up in the garage freezer. For years. Thirty to be exact. Thin-skinned over rejection? Hubby eventually scanned all 700 pages into his computer and then onto a thumb drive that is now in our safe deposit box. But I still have that initial freezer baby—lingering now in a warm file cabinet—waiting to be edited into two, maybe three books.

        Fast forward to present. I’ve attended a dozen writer conferences in the last four years, and even pitched the freezer book at a few of the early ones. Still too long. But the advice I was given paid off. Write a shorter book first, build a platform and presence. Then bring out the big one…or divide it into a series. Meanwhile, I had been writing shorter stuff: stories and articles for the local paper, national anthologies and magazines. I entered contests…and placed or won. Good sign. Skin thickened.

      When I received an award at a Women Writing the West Conference in Kansas City for a short story, Publisher Rhonda Penders was in the audience. We connected over dinner and she told me to contact her if I expanded the story to novel length as the judge had suggested. A year later, The Accidental Wife was in galley at Wild Rose Press.

      My inspiration for the time-travel romance was Diana Gabaldon, whom I met at two of the HNS Writer Conferences. (The only author I know who can get away with creating thousand page books, though each one takes her three years to write.) The Accidental Wife was a Golden Quill finalist—ironically for best FIRST book. The Accidental Stranger was released two months ago and I’m researching now for book three in my “Accidental Series.”



      So what about that real first book—put on ice? It could be a good prequel to the present series. But living in Minnesota, I’ve grown accustomed to ice…and skating into opportunities when they arise. I’m on a roll now with thicker skin and a series agenda. My ice age is history.

by Cj Fosdick
http://www.cjfosdick.com

The Sandhill Island Series

I’m often asked, “Is Sandhill Island a real place?”  It is for me.  The tiny tourist island off the coast of Corpus Christi became real when it flew from the ends of my fingers onto the computer screen.  Well, sometimes it didn’t fly, but other times it did.

There are many islands along the gulf coast: Padre and Mustang to name a couple.  But Sandhill is a special place of mystery, secrets, and love.  The residents care for each other because living off the mainland they must work together.  The small strip of water that runs between their lives and those of the large city might as well be the Great Wall of China.  It not only protects them from city life, it also prevents them from receiving help when needed. And the ferry only goes back and forth four times a day.  If you’re away from home at night, you won’t get back unless you own a boat.

The residents are working class people who fish, cook, or provide hardware for their neighbors.  The tourists help bring in some money in the summer, but the winters are for die-hard islanders. 

In Secrets of Sandhill Island, Meg grows vegetables and flowers behind her seaside home.  She pulls them into town on an antique wooden cart and hopes someone will need her bounty.  She lives alone in a house she loves and wouldn’t leave for any amount of money.  But money means little to Meg.

The second in the Sandhill Island series is due out this year. Stones of Sandhill Island revolves around different main characters with some of the same minor ones.  The restaurant, Le Chez is still the best kept secret in the Gulf of Mexico and still stands even after the hurricane.  But it has a few new features – like a jazz singer on the weekends.  Billie Stone has the voice of an angel and a past that threatens to tear her apart.

Find out what the secrets are in Secrets of Sandhill Island and get ready for the second in the series, Stones of Sandhill Island.  Spring is here and the islands are calling.

Peggy Chambers

http://peggylchambers.com/

What lies Behind the Mask of Johnson’s next novel?

Henry III said, “If I were not King of France, I would choose to be a citizen of Venice.”

He wasn’t alone in his admiration. Venice, Italy has whispered its inspirational promises to mankind for centuries. Its charms have proved the catalyst for art, music, literature, and pleasure from lowly artists to pedestaled kings.

Everything from its romantically-arched windows overlooking bobbing gondolas, to its gargoyle-shaped doorknobs, speaks of its uniqueness. There are sights and sounds particular to Venice: bells’ flat gonging, water lapping against boats, hand carts thumping across the walkways on the way to a seven-centuries-old market, pigeons’ cooing right before their riotous fluttering as tourists pour contents from seed sacks into their eager palms, Byzantium architecture, blown-glass chandeliers, standing gondoliers steering their crafts effortlessly through dark water, shops with window fronts advertising hand-crafted shoes or carnival masks.

I first visited in 2005 with a friend since high school. Nacicchetti—and drank wine from the region with names like Prosecco—which we recognized—and the lesser known to us at the time—Soave and Valpolicella—in enotecas and osterias. Everything was strangely delicious and the art and sculpture was so beautifully moving we could barely digest the richness that makes Venice one of the world’s top travel destinations.
turally, we took the clichéd gondola tour. We ate squid and other small bites—

One day, as we strolled through the Rialto Market and its surrounding shops, a water ambulance careened through the canal, a big cross emblazoned on its side. The image sent roots deeper than those of simple memory.

Who was the occupant requiring medical attention?
What had happened?
Where were they from and where were they headed?
Why had this been necessary?

A new story forged from this wonderment; one which culminated inBehind the Mask, a suspense-filled romance novel with Venice as its backdrop.


My intention is to bring Venice’s full flavor to the reader as the journey is set into motion between characters who might never have met without this one event which required an ambulance. There is, of course, a mystery to be solved and lovers to bring together—my own Bridge of Sighs.

Renee Johnson is the author of Herald Angels, Acquisition, and The Haunting of William Gray. She is currently working on a Young Adult novel, while editing a suspense novel which has international flair–an homage to her love of travel and foreign food. She lives on a farm in North Carolina with her husband, Tony Johnson, and two very spoiled German shepherds named Hansel and Gretel.

Renee Canter Johnson
http://reneejohnsonwrites.com 

Available to day at all major online retailers

I have been to see the dragon’s skin…

… and this is what it looks like.

Where I live, the Earth is a mellow creature. It doesn’t move beneath my feet or spew into the sky or break open very often. Folk here are focused more on the sky and the changeable—sometimes wicked—weather it brings us. We never doubt the solidity of the ground we’ve built our lives upon because it so rarely fails us.

We shouldn’t be so trusting.

The Earth is a living, breathing entity … a dragon, if you will. And that is never more evident than where this dragon is daily making itself new. On the island of Hawaii, the Big Island, the ground swells, it puffs poisonous, sulfurous smoke from open red sores and hundreds of bottomless cracks. It disgorges slow-moving lava fields that surround and torch homes, highways, and fields. It creeps downhill to fill a once-beautiful cove with 20-30 feet of solid black rock, rippled like skin.

The Earth lives here, and the people live with it, and

We think of dragons as mythical creatures, armor-plated and breathing fire. I think of them as having skin like this, and sleeping—ever so restlessly—beneath our feet.

Helen C. Johannes is the author of BLOODSTONE, a fantasy romance in which dragons do indeed sleep beneath the earth, and their petrified blood possesses magical power.
nature takes hold of the rock—very quickly, it seems, finding footholds for pollen and seedlings in seams filled with windblown dust. Dragon skin is fertile, apparently, or the islands built by these forces wouldn’t be so lush.

Helen C. Johannes
http://helencjohannes.blogspot.com/

Crazy Things Happen When You Write Steamy Romance By Stacy Gold

I recently became a published contemporary romance author. Okay, a published, contemporary erotic romance author. As soon as my first short story, ‘Just Friends’, came out, I let everyone know: friends, family, acquaintances, social media followers and random strangers. I expected the mix of funny looks, genuine excitement, and rave reviews I’ve received.

What I didn’t expect was how writing a book with explicit—but not particularly kinky—sex scenes would shift my personal universe. Especially since most of my friends and family knew what I was writing beforehand. Some even critiqued early drafts for me.

Still, their reactions after reading my officially published work have been fascinating…
At my launch party, I received congratulations cards, a lovely succulent in a pretty pot, a bouquet, and many bottles of wine. I also received a realistically rendered, double-ended, pink silicone sex toy with ‘Just Friends’ and my launch date inscribed in black marker on the side. Very thoughtful. It makes a nice conversation piece on the mantle.

One of my male friends questioned me about the specifics of powder skiing. In great detail. I think it was a mix of genuine curiosity, and a desire to let me know he read my book without talking about the sex. Or the emotions. Or the transformation of the characters. Or their relatability. Or the myriad of other things making up this story that most men avoid in their reading material.

The other night, the initial discussion over dinner with a few other couples revolved around the best words to use for male sexual anatomy. We were at a local restaurant, and not being all that quiet. I can’t help but wonder what the others diners thought, and whether they prefer the d-word or the c-word.

Not that I minded. I’m fine talking about sex. Always have been, even loudly in public places. It’s just, most other people aren’t. Or they weren’t. Until now.

Here are five wonderful and crazy things I’ve discovered:

1) My very conservative Aunt is not as conservative as I thought.

2) My guy friends are so supportive, even they read my book—and most have no idea what to say about it other than it’s very well written. Or they really enjoyed the skiing.

3) My husband likes me spending my days thinking and writing about attraction, sex, love and happily ever after.

4) I have the most wonderful, supportive friends and family ever. Not that I didn’t already know, but it’s good to be reminded.

5) I’ve given people a free pass to have frank sexual conversations with me anytime, anywhere. Which is a useful and appreciated, since I always need more fodder for my books.

What’s the one question you would ask an author of steamy romance? Does knowing someone writes about sex make you more likely to discuss sex with them?

Please do let me know in the comments below.


Stacy Gold
Adventires in Love and the Great Outdoors
http://stacygold.com/books

unique Australian animals by Kate Loveday

Australia is a diverse country, with amazing wildlife. Amongst these the platypus is one of the most unique. It is one of the most unusual creatures in the world. It has a paddle-shaped tail like a beaver; a sleek, furry body like an otter; and a flat bill and webbed feet like a duck. In fact, the first time a platypus was brought from Australia to Britain, people couldn't believe that it was a real animal. They thought that a trickster had sewn two animals together, according to the BBC.

I have had the good fortune to see a one of these rare creatures. Not in a sanctuary or a zoo. In the wild. Swimming in the Broken River, in the Eungella National Park, Central Queensland. The National Park is in the Eungella Range, 50 miles west of Mackay. With husband Peter we had been spending a week in the Pioneer Valley below, on our way to Far North Queensland for the winter, staying in the Finch Hatton Caravan Park.

We had come here with the hope of seeing the shy and mainly nocturnal platypus in its natural habitat. So here we were before dusk standing in the viewing area on the bridge over the river at Broken River.

We had taken up our positions an hour earlier, waiting patiently and scanning the river for any signs of activity.
“Watch for bubbles on the surface of the water,” said the Ranger. “The platypus dives to the bottom for food and strains it through his bill. Then he comes to the surface to eat it. He’s only there for a few seconds and then he dives down searching for more, so you have to watch carefully. And it won’t happen until the sunlight is off the water.”

Accordingly we had been scanning the shady areas of water carefully.
We had a few false alarms as we saw tortoises swimming below us, and insects on the surface giving the appearance of bubbles.

Peter trained his binoculars upriver and suddenly there it was, many yards upstream. Creating wide ripples as it dived, it was clearly visible, and we watched its progress as it swam towards us and passed under the bridge. It was larger than we had expected at about twenty three inches long, and we saw its distinctive bill, the tail, and dark brown fur clearly. It was truly an exciting event to see this creature in its natural environment.

Apart from platypus spotting the Eungella National Park has many other attractions. It boasts the largest continuous stretch of rainforest in Australia. The winding road from Eungella to Broken River is lined on both sides with vegetation and walks and lookouts lead off from the road.

At the top of the winding road is the historic Eungella Chalet. With tables, chairs and umbrellas set out on lawns in front of the Chalet it is a pleasant spot to sit awhile and admire the view over the Pioneer Valley 700 metres below. A patchwork of green and brown fields interspersed with trees and the odd building and fringed by mountains makes this a spectacular view.
If you decide to visit Queensland the Pioneer Valley is the perfect place to spend a few days of your holiday. There are plenty of things to see and do.
If you are adventurous you may like to try hang-gliding. A hang-gliding ramp at the edge of the lawn provides a take off point for hang-gliding enthusiasts, both local and otherwise. Australian championships have been held here and competitors have been known to glide as far as the town of Pinnacle, twelve miles down in the valley below.

If you come I hope you enjoy it as much as we have. And I hope you spot a platypus.


Kate Loveday
@LovedayKate
http://www.kateloveday.com

Women's Hearts - Finding Truth in Fiction

Have you ever found yourself in a novel? Do you read to imagine yourself the heroine…or do you read because you are her…possessor of the deeper angst and motivations ready to find their way out in shared dilemmas and dreams, such as these…

Denying passion...love cannot be conjured where it isn’t, nor can it be successfully repressed: “Caging a heart – it couldn’t be done. Not a heart in full blossom of passion. Stopping a roaring river would be easier, or harnessing a violent hurricane with bare hands.” From “Love on a Train.”

Losing dreams to reality, when is it right to let them go and when is it wrong:
“Lana strained to see herself in the cracked mirror that leaned against the wall near Grandma’s cot. ‘You think your dress works good for a bride?’ Lana eyed the dress her grandmother was giving her, faded gray fabric with only a hint of white where tiny daisies had once been.
‘You’re going to be a wife, not a bride…’ Grandma muttered around her mouthful of pins, her needle and thread weaving in and out of the gathered waist. ‘Get silly notions about being a bride out of your head.’” From “Asked For.”

Being close to him, but not close enough:
“‘I miss you too,’ I answered, my cheek flat against his chest, my eyes staring across the room at a poster of Cincinnati’s baseball team. I did miss him but not in the way he thought. Even when he was near I still missed him, missed him in the lonely place he should be in my soul.” From “Mine to Tell.”

Longing for a true hero who knows what he wants, and it’s you:
“I had Regina on my horse in a second, seated in my saddle. I reached in front of her, grabbed the saddle’s horn, and sailed up behind her. ‘Let’s go. And this time, I’ll do the holding on.’ And I did, with both arms around the tiny woman I never intended to let go of.” From soon to be released “The Lady’s Arrangement.”

If an author is writing what he or she knows, they are writing your path. The pleasure is to escape to that path, or even escape from it as characters sort through what we sometimes can’t unravel. So, read. And enjoy. And when the pages reflect what you’ve always known, clasp the book close to your heart when you’re finished, and say, “amen.”

Colleen L Donnelly
 http://www.colleenldonnelly.com/