One of my current WIP’s (Wreck/Work in Progress) is Dark Desires. A steamy erotic of Cian and Tessa. I’m a person who needs visual stimulation of the hero,. I drool… er study his physique, face, hair, eyes – you get the picture – in order to write an accurate verbal picture so you can see him too. Needless to say – lucky me – I’ve been scouring the internet trying to find a male image for Cian. Cian is old world, and has seen a lot in his lifetime. I needed the ‘right’ man for this embittered soul.

Dear hubby will often walk into my office, where I’m studiously looking up all sorts of beef and brawn, and probably wonders what the heck I’m doing. Fortunately he’s not the jealous type. We agreed early in our marriage it’s okay to look at the desert tray, as long as you don’t try to sample, or take one home.

I digress.

Today, I came across a photo of male model, Ben Hill, taken by photographer Alexi Lubormiski and it screams ‘Cian’. Tell me what you think.

Fascinating word, don’t you think? Beginnings. Conjures up thoughts of bright, shiny, new lives, loves, just about anything. But sometimes, beginnings is the re-start of something old. How many times have you sat across the table from your spouse, or lover, and wondered if you’d made the right choice? I know I have, and can guarantee my husband has thought this many, many times. I would. I’m impossible to live with.

We live in  a world where love is disposable. If you don’t like what you have, toss it out with this week’s garbage, and head off to town to find a new toy to play with. What we forget is ~ this week’s new toy will be next week’s old toy. Nothing stays bright and shiny. All toys need to be cared for and cleaned. Same with love. Over time it will fade and loose some of its glitter, but also over time, if we treasure it, this love will become the one thing we can’t go to sleep at night without. This love must be tucked close to our heart before we’re complete.

So, during this run up to Valentine’s Day, maybe we should take a step back and really look at our old toys. See a little crack? How about mending that broken seam and spruce it up with a bit of paint. If you must, bedazzle the damn thing. Beginnings. Let’s begin to love again. Also, and this is the practical Scottish side of my mother coming through, it’s cheaper to keep the old toy, than buy new.

I’ll end with this, it’s my favorite saying. Grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.  Maybe, but my adage has always been that if you kept yourself busy watering and caring for your side of the fence, you’d be too busy mowing your lawn to worry about what was happening on the other side of the fence.

Happy Valentines Day, dear reader. And love, as always, to my husband Rob – my favorite toy to play with in the bedroom *wink*

I did it!  I never thought I would achieve this milestone.   When I started writing Shelby’s Dilemma, originally titled Shelby’s Legacy, my whole story sat at around 28k.  This had been a gargantuan task, and I marveled at those who wrote novels numbering around 75k or even *shudder* 100k.  How did they do that?  Then today, I tallied up my chapters and realized I am at a shade over 50k, and I’m not finished.  Ack! 

I have entered mainstream people.  (happy dance around the desk)  Just a few more chapters to complete my manuscript, then polish it until it shines, and send off my baby to see who wants to adopt it. 

You can’t see me, but I’m leaning back in my chair, with my feet kicked out, savouring the moment.  Life is grand.  Now, I’m off to bed.  It is 0200 hrs here in my part of the world, and I’m tired.  Happy writing everyone.  See you in the writer’s circle.

I’ve created my own romantic glossary of phrases.  There are only so many ways you can write how your heroine’s lips part, the hero’s nostrils flare or their pupils dilate with desire.  If that’s all you wrote, your story would never be published, because some astute editor would see you were a one trick pony.

So, how do you keep your story fresh?  For me, if I think of a phrase or turn of words that tickle my fancy, I add it to my glossary and tuck it away for future use.  Not all phrases work for every situation.  I have several categories and below are some examples. 

“How She Feels”

~ her stomach tightened in anticipation; ~ with immense effort she dragged her gaze up to him

“All About Him”

~ chiselled features; ~ he looked wild, untamed; ~ his hips were lean and powerful

“Breathing”

~ sharply indrawn breath; ~ soft groan of capitulation

“The Chase”

~ no mistaking the heat in his/her eyes; ~ his lips grazed the back of her neck; ~ he moved behind her; ~ his hands tightened on the slender span of her waist

“Aahh, The Kisses”

~ mere inches separated them; ~ he braced a hand on either side, imprisoning her; ~ took his/her mouth with an urgency; ~ the kiss turned heated and fierce

“The Act Itself”

~ her body fisting around him; ~ slender fingers stroked him; ~ her slim legs hooked around the back of his thighs  (had to keep this PG 13)    I think you get the picture. 

 At times, this helps me get my thoughts back on track, especially when my muse goes on vacation and leaves me stranded at the computer desk.

I’d written Shelby’s Dilemma in the first person POV, following strict guidelines and fastidiously avoided writing what other characters felt, or knew.  Everything, and I mean everything had to come from the eyes, ears and heart of Shelby. 

I felt success.  Everyone who read my story loved the hero, Tank.  So Shelby had revealed to us a hero we could root for.  But, not everybody liked Shelby.  Why?  I couldn’t understand this.  How could they not love her?  Tank did. 

Everyone said she was cute, snappy, fiesty.  Most loved the snarky dialogue, but some people who have read my manuscript didn’t really like my heroine. 

So, what to do.

It was time to add Tank’s thoughts and feelings.  I absolutely did not want to take away what I’d written for Shelby.  It had to stay in first person, as this is how she speaks to me.  Put away the strait jackets, you know what I mean. 

When I see the story from Shelby’s eyes, it’s always first person.  But to round out her character, I’ve had to bring Tank’s thoughts and feelings into this tale.  He is told in third person.

At first I thought, where am I going to put these extra scenes?  But when it’s meant to be, everything falls into place.  As I went over my manuscript, I noticed areas where Tank’s thoughts fell into place, almost as if I’d planned it from the start.

This is exciting, and fresh!  I love that Tank can tell his story.  And there’s so much more the reader will discover.  They’ll want Shelby to know what Tank hid from her.  They’ll root for her to forgive him and accept his love.  I get all ‘ferklumped’ thinking about it.

So, tomorrow, I’ll meet with my writing group, ‘The London Ladies’ and inform them of my epiphany.

My favorite hero for years was the character ‘Roarke’, featured in J.D. Robb novels.  Powerful, mysterious, has lots of stamina *waggling eyebrows*, with a hint of danger.  I didn’t think anyone could defeat this powerful alpha male.  That is until I read Karen Marie Moning’s Highlander Series. 

I fell in love with all her male leads, one by one.  Then, she wrote a book about a male Fairy called Adam, who had cameo appearances in almost all her novels.  He deserved his own book.  A cast out Fae prince, with a touch of old world cynicism, mysterious accent, exuding sexuality and sensuality through every pore.  Oh, and a hint of danger that makes our breath hitch and insides tremble with deep awareness.   Hands down, the most sexy alpha male lead I had ever read about.  But what sealed the deal on Adam, was his unwavering, I-don’t-care-if-every-woman-in-the-world-throws-herself-at-me-I-love-only-one-woman attitude. 

That’s what made him the winner.  It’s what almost every woman wants.  Someone to love her to distraction.  I know I do.

Conflict. Every story must, I repeat, must have conflict.  Without conflict it’s just a piece of paper with dark letters on it.  Whether it’s inner conflict, external conflict, we want out characters to be tested and rise above it. So what is conflict?
Short answer: it is the collision of our characters’ desires with nature, other characters, the spirit world, outer space, another dimension, from within themselves, really anywhere you want. The story that unfolds is how our characters react to the conflict. Conflicts highlights and unmasks them.

How the character struggles reveals who he/she/it is and makes us turn pages, rabidly wanting to know; will Claire defeat her antagonist Rachel in their deadly game of one-upmanship. Who will Cal pick? And will he survive the machinations of Rick, who hates Cal with a malevolence he hides behind an urban mask of civility and charm?

See? Conflict

How can we ‘emote’ with our characters if we don’t know where they’re coming from?  I had an editor once tell me she thought, based on some heavy flirting with a secondary alpha male in my story, that there would be a menage a trois.  Because I lived in my character’s heads for almost a year I knew my primary hero would NEVER share his love interest with another man.  Sadly, the editor never got ‘inside’ my characters enough to know that. 

Her fault, or mine?

All mine. It is my job, as the author, to draw you into the heart, soul and mind of my characters.  How can you know how strong the attraction/love is unless I paint a verbal picture?  How can I paint a convincing verbal picture unless I know my subject intimately?  I MUST know everything there is to know about the character.  Not just thoughts and wishes but vital physical things. 

If he’s 6′5″, he’d have a hard time getting into a little car, buying shoes, he’d see a lot of the tops of heads.  She on the other hand is 5′4″ and a little plump.  She hates shopping because it’s hard to find pants that fit around her waist without puddling around her ankles.  So she wears 3-4″ heels to compensate, and has corns on her feet.  She’d have a crick in her neck from looking up to everyone, especially our 6′5″ hero.

When I live inside my character I can now write their thoughts, conversations with conviction, because in a small way I become them.  My belief in who they are will translate onto the page and hopefully you, the reader, will take the journey with me.

So, take some time.  Get to know your characters.  Are they allergic to nuts?  Maybe they like only yellow jellybeans.  He secretly loves the Bachelorette and can’t tell anyone because they’ll think he’s a royal wuss, so he tapes it and watches whenever he’s home alone.  Anything.  It’s your story.

Making a scene.  It’s like taking a picture in your head, creating words and telling your reader what you see.  You bring them into your world, weaving a tapestry of senses.  And action.  Without action, there is no scene.  How boring would a movie be if all it did was show one still picture after another?  Would you recommend it to another person?  Didn’t think so. 

So, let’s give this a whirl.

Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth argue.  He is standing beside the fireplace.  Elizabeth sat on the couch.  He left the room and Elizabeth was upset.

Here it is…again:

“I won’t do it!”  Elizabeth sat rigid on the divan.  She felt no warmth even though the fireplace crackled merrily, sparks trailing up the chimney. 

Her husband of three months, meticulously dressed for the evening, stood facing her.  Reaching into his waist coat, he brought out his watch fob.  He glanced at it, then clicking it shut, replied, “You will.  You are my wife and will do as I tell you.”  With a raised hand he waved away the argument he knew she would make.  “You will invite him to have a drink with you, toast his new promotion or whatever you wish, and he’ll never know what happened.” 

Silence ensued.  He strode over to the window and looked out over the gardens.  Finally, Elizabeth forced through stiff lips, “What about Lydia?”

He turned, surprise evident on his face, “What about Lydia?” 

Elizabeth stared, horrified, at his callous disregard for her youngest sister. 

His thinned lips gave evidence he was angered at having his wishes questions.  ”The chit will find some other hapless fool to support her.  I want George dead.”  He stalked out of the room.  Elizabeth collapsed against the back of the chair in disbelief. 

Thank goodness I never authored Pride and Prejudice.  Everyone would have died or been horribly maimed!

Action makes a scene, well,  a scene – events happening, people acting out.  Well balanced scenes include a little bit of everything.  Some may require a lot of action with little or no dialogue, others very little action, but a lot of dialogue.

So, get out there, make a scene!