OF COURSE THERE'S ALWAYS CHOCOLATE!
Why don't we talk about one of my favorite subjects?
One of the benefits of writing romance is that we get to design strong, sensual, humorous, intense men. Not perfect men, mind you, but men who capture our hearts between "Chapter One" and "The End." That is one of our main goals as romance writers: to make the reader fall a little in love with our hero.
Do I, as a writer, fall in love with my heroes? Perhaps. At least until they wake me up in the middle of the night to tell me how I'd written that last scene all wrong. Excuse me? Who's the writer here?
But my heroes love to jerk my chain. I was writing the first chapter of Storm's Interlude when my hero started to do something. My fingers flinched away from the keyboard. He wouldn't do that, I thought. Storm turned to look at me, winked and purred, "Watch me." And dang if he didn't do it, and do it quite well.
|Vonnie Davis, Romance Author|
One night I was sound alseep when someone slammed our bedroom door. I bolted in the bed, looked around the dark bedroom and fumbled for the light. My DH was sleeping soundly. Everything seemed normal. Must have been a dream, I reasoned as I snuggled up to hubster. I'd no sooner dozed off than the door slammed again. This time I saw Storm slam it--the scoundrel.
"Okay," I mumbled as I rolled over. "What do you want?" He told me to watch. This time when he slammed the door, he had Rachel hoisted over his shoulder. That quickly the image/dream/vision was gone. "That's it? You woke me up to show me you carried Rachel over your shoulder and slammed the door behind you? What...what am I to do with that?"
Believe me, at that particular moment, at 3:12 in the morning, I did NOT love my hero. Nor did I have good feelings about him throughout the day as I dragged my exhausted kiester around the house. And when I realized I'd have to write 4 more chapters before I could even write that dratted scene, I was less than impressed with Storm Masterson.
Still, he is a charming character. And as Rachel, my heroine, will tell you, the man can kiss good enough to make your toes curl in your stilletos...or your sneakers...or your flipflops.
BLURB FOR STORM'S INTERLUDE:
Nurse Rachel Dennison comes to Texas determined to prepare her new patient for a second round of chemo. What she isn’t counting on is her patient’s twin brother, Storm Masterson. Despite her initial attraction, Storm has two things Rachel can’t abide: a domineering personality and a fiancée.
Half Native American, with the ability to have "vision dreams," Storm dreams about Rachel for three nights before her arrival. Both are unprepared for the firestorm of emotions their first chance encounter ignites.
Ultimately, it is Rachel’s past—an abusive, maniacal ex-boyfriend—that threatens to keep them apart…and Storm’s dreams that bring them together again.
DOOR SLAMMING EXCERPT:
When Storm pulled in front of the ranch house, Rachel was the first one to barrel out of the SUV. Before she’d made it a dozen steps, Storm grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder like a bag of grain. “Put me down, you lunatic!”
“Like hell.” He stormed into the house, his boots echoing off the hardwood floors of the large foyer. “We’re going to have this out right now. I’m tired of your peeling my hide with your accusations.”
Jackson rushed out of the den into the large hallway. “Storm? What the hell?”
Storm had one hand on the doorknob to his office. “You got all the security measures in place? Anything that demands my immediate attention?”
“Put me down this instant, you…you caveman cowboy!” He smacked her bottom. She yelped. Once he put her down, she was going to tear him apart, limb by cheating limb.
Jackson had a hand over his mouth to hide his laughter. “Have at it, buddy. I’ve done my job.” He took a sleeping Sawyer from Noella. “Sunny and I will put tiger here to bed.”
Storm opened the door to his office, waiting until the couple had the sleeping boy upstairs before he yelled his announcement so the entire first floor could hear: “Anyone who knocks on this door before Rachel and I have worked things out takes their life in their hands. Is that clear?” He slammed the door shut behind them and turned the lock before setting Rachel down on the floor.
She was so incensed, so humiliated, so livid she couldn’t speak. She kicked him in the shin with her sneakered foot. Storm winced before stalking over to the liquor cabinet.
He poured himself two fingers of whiskey, neat, and downed it. He poured another and downed it, too. He hung his head, his hands fisted on the cabinet. “You can make me so damned mad I can’t see straight. No one has ever pushed me over the edge the way you do.”
She fisted her hands on her hips, hiked her chin and glared at him. “Yeah, well, I’d like to slap you into next week, you lying, cheating, poor excuse of a man. You told me things. You told me you loved me. I surrendered to you. I had sex with you.”
“Would you just listen to me for five damn minutes?” He turned to face her and ran both hands through his hair, a sign of frustration.
She folded her arms under her chest. “Okay, but this better be good.”
http://bit.ly/rcCIMa -- The Wild Rose Press
http://amzn.to/pkkcLq -- Amazon
http://bit.ly/pb9DQd -- Barnes & Noble
Come visit me at Vintage Vonnie where I blog. http://www.vintagevonnie.blogspot.com
My website is www.vonniedavis.com