Today, the Framptons head out on vacation. I will likely not see this individual, although we will be at the beach.
While the Frampton boys are off kayaking, I’ll be writing, which is also a vacation–time for me to get ME time, as opposed to cobbled-together-whenever-I-can time.
See you next week!
It’s Mischief Night, and it got me to thinking about making mischief and taking risks. In my personal life, I am the dullest person imaginable: never caused my parents any stress (at least, I don’t think so–they were usually causing me stress), never pulled an all-nighter, never had a wild period. And no, the purple hair does not count as a wild period.
Which, I guess, is why I write fiction. In fiction, I get to create all kinds of mischief, from heroines disguising their true motives to heroes going determinedly after what they want, to villains not playing fair. After all, how much fun would it be to read about characters who do exactly what they’re supposed to? Not much fun at all. Boring, in fact.
So I like my characters, whether I’m writing or reading them, to be a little bit wild. Mischievous. Risky. If I could be a character from Regency fiction, I’d probably pick Jessica Trent from Lord Of Scoundrels. Actually, I’d probably be happy being any one of Loretta Chase’s heroines: tough, no-nonsense women who are uncharacteristically flummoxed by the hero. Yum.
Who would you like to make mischief as?
So we’ve just returned from a vacation to the South–Charleston, South Carolina, to be specific.
While there, we went to a few beach restaurants–casual atmosphere, cheap beer, delicious crabs–and there were a lot of twentysomethings as well. That was interesting, since in my daily life I don’t see the age of the people about whom I’m writing. And I don’t see Southern people ever, so there were two different things about the people I got to observe.
Man, twentysomethings are very different from me. Something to keep in mind as I write their romances.
It’s easy to think that because you’ve experienced things–yes, I was twentysomething once–that you know all about it. But then seeing people interact in ways you just wouldn’t imagine reminds you (or me, at least) that no, I don’t know it all. So maybe my characters will behave in ways that I wouldn’t expect, even as their authors, because of their different perspective.
Which is a long way of saying I am very excited to return to writing. Hope everyone had a great holiday, if you’re American or Canadian, and otherwise had a lovely week.
I am thrilled to show the cover for my April 2013 Loveswept release, Hero of My Heart. And here is what it’s all about, too. I’m psyched, I love these colors, and Mr. No Shirt isn’t bad, either.
When Mary Smith’s corrupt, debt-ridden brother drags her to a seedy pub to sell her virtue to the highest bidder, Alasdair Thornham leaps to the rescue. Of course the marquess is far from perfect husband material: Alasdair is too fond of opium, and prefers delirium to reality. Still, Alasdair has come to her aid, and now she intends to return the favor. She will show him that he is not evil, just troubled—and exceedingly handsome, with his perfect, strong body, chiseled jaw, and piercing green eyes.
Mary was a damsel in need of a hero, but Alasdair’s plan is shortsighted. He never foresaw her desire to save him from himself. Alasdair is quite at home in his private torment, until this angel proves that a heart still beats in his broken soul. The devil may have kept her from hell, but will Mary’s good intentions lead them back to the brink—or to heaven in each other’s arms?
I spotted this on someone’s Facebook timeline, and had to share–I am so grateful to my local libraries, and still remember the ‘whoosh’ of excitement when it was Library Day at my elementary school. I would borrow as many books as I could carry, even though one of the librarians told me I couldn’t possibly read that many books in one week.
I could.
I’m in Brooklyn without my son, who’s off having adventures–I’ve been working on A Hero’s Return, the next Loveswept book after Hero of My Heart, and am preparing to write the black moment–where he asks her to forsake what she is planning to do to be with him, and she says no–and that takes a lot of fortitude, so it’s taking me awhile as it builds in my brain.
But with the son gone, I hope to be able to get a lot more work done on this. Not to mention more date time with the husband, more outside time at night, and maybe more shoe shopping. And more reading? The worse thing about being a writer is that you suddenly don’t get to do enough reading–thankfully, I still commute to and fro work, and have waiting time in airports and such, so I still sneak as much as I can.
I’m currently reading Anne Bronte’s The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. What are you reading?