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Showing posts with label Storm of Desire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Storm of Desire. Show all posts

Friday, April 24, 2015

DAISIES, DIAMONDS & STORMS, OH MY!





  
April’s theme is daisies, diamonds, and storms. Daisies are very pretty and festive. They say diamonds are a girl’s best friend. I don’t have many diamonds, and the few I have are small, but that’s okay. I’m not much of a diamond gal. I prefer more colorful gems.



I chose the storm picture here because it shows one of the famous natural monuments in Monument Valley, Utah, a place I visited with my husband and son on one of our trips to the Southwest. We didn’t see any storms, but the mesas and plateaus and the wonders of Nature spread out for all to see there is awe-inspiring.

I live in Delaware, on the East Coast. Thankfully, we don’t get weather extremes here. Tornados have been known to touch down, but they’re minor compared to what they get in Tornado Alley. We have severe thunderstorms at times, but thunderstorms don’t scare me. I think they’re awesome, but I do worry about losing power each time we have a storm. In 2008, we were hit with a big hailstorm with golf-ball size hail. The sound of those ice balls hitting our house was deafening. When it started, we didn’t know what it was. My husband, son, and I, along with our cat, ran to the window. I’ve never seen anything like that before or since. Unfortunately, our cars were parked outside and they sustained damage from the hail.

Hurricanes, snowstorms, and ice storms are our biggest weather challenges in this part of the country. As a child, snowstorms were fun because we got out of school and we could go sledding when the snow stopped falling. Snowstorms and ice storms aren’t much fun when you’re an adult and have to drive in them to get to work. Most companies don’t close for snow or ice.

The last big hurricane here was Irene in 2011. Hurricane Sandy the following year was worse but it affected the Jersey Shore and not so much Delaware. During Irene, we lost power and Internet for six days. The evening the hurricane started, we lost Internet. We lost power during the night when a tree in a neighbor’s yard fell on electric wires. Twelve houses in our neighborhood were affected by that falling tree. Power outages were widespread throughout the state. At least we had water and our landline. Two of our phones are hardwired so even with a power outage we have phone service. That first afternoon when the storm finally ended, I heard a horrible thumping noise that shook the house. I looked out the window to see a telephone pole in our yard on the ground and split in two. There went our landline.

We were luckier than our neighbors because we had hot water. Their water heaters are electric while ours is gas-powered. We could take hot showers and they had to be content with cold ones. It was still summer and that helped. We managed to save everything in our refrigerator. We took our frozen stuff to a nearby relative’s and stored them in her freezer. We had two large coolers in our kitchen where we kept the refrigerated stuff. Every other day we bought more ice for the coolers. I cooked every night on the grill outside. On the fifth day our food ran out and we had to eat out. Every morning, I made a run to the convenience store for coffee. Must have my coffee in the morning.

Almost as bad as losing electricity was losing Internet. I got my first iPhone later that same month so I would never again be completely without my Internet. I was going crazy. It was as if I had no link to the outside world. Finally, after five days, I went to Barnes & Noble to use their Internet. Seems everyone had the same idea. The place was packed with people sitting all over using laptops. A store employee found me the last free electric outlet in the store—in the children’s section. I sat on a tiny child’s seat and hooked up to the BN Wi-Fi. At last, I could read my emails. I felt calmer than I had in days. On the day I was at BN, my husband was working on the yard. He left our garage door open and a guy on a bicycle stole two leaf blowers out of the garage. My husband chased after him on foot but couldn’t catch him. There are always those people who take advantage of situations.

On the sixth day, a convoy of power company trucks rolled into our neighborhood. The cavalry! Most of us neighbors who’d lost power were in my backyard at the time. When we saw the power company trucks, we let out a loud cheer.

We survived Irene, but it was a lesson in how dependent we are on basic needs like electric, water, telephone, and also Internet. I hope not to go through that again, but Mother Nature likes to flex her muscles at times and we’re at her mercy.

Weather can be a great backdrop for a story. My multi-award winning sexy sizzler, Storm of Desire, is set during a January nor’easter at the Delaware beach.


"The storm outside is nothing compared to the storm of desire and guilt raging between former lovers trapped together." 
Corporate attorney Samantha Greco needs some peace and quiet to come to a decision about her career. Instead, while an icy nor’easter rages outside, she finds herself trapped in a cottage on Fenwick Island with Aiden Rourke, a man she used five years ago when she ran from the heartbreak of her fiancĂ©’s betrayal. 

Aiden Rourke has loved Sam for years. For one glorious night she was his. But then she fled, wounding his ego and his heart. Thrown together again, they soon discover time hasn’t diminished their fiery passion for each other. Only Aiden has ever been able to melt Sam with just a look or a touch. But the fear that she’s like her mother, who used men mercilessly, scares Sam to death. 

The storm outside is nothing compared to the storm of desire, fear, and guilt raging inside Sam. But during their wild weekend together, Sam and Aiden draw closer and realize their all-consuming passion for each other masks deeper needs and desires. 

When the storm ends, will they go their separate ways? Or will they find the courage to face the future together as one? 

Winner, second place novella category, 2013 Gulf Coast RWA Silken Sands Star Contest! 

Winner, fourth place short contemporary category-2013 OKRWA International Digital Awards Contest! 

Here’s an excerpt. I hope you enjoy it.
Samantha Greco yanked her wet suitcase through the bedroom doorway, dropped it on the floor, turned on the lamp and slammed the door. The sound reverberated through the empty house. She hadn’t meant to take her frustrations out on the door, but her white-knuckled drive up the coast from Richmond, Virginia, to Fenwick Island, Delaware, had plucked her last nerve.   
Lightning flashed, illuminating the shadowed corners of the room. The fierceness of the January storm had turned the early afternoon to dusk. A sudden crack of thunder made her jump. Damn nor’easter!  
Shivering, she set her handbag on the night table, then shrugged off her jacket and threw it on the bed. The soaking rain had dampened her jeans. She sat on the bed and tugged off her boots, then her jeans and the sweater she'd worn since early morning. She unzipped her suitcase and rummaged for fresh jeans and a sweater. Straightening, the clean clothes in one hand, she loosened her hair from its clasp to let the damp tendrils swing about her shoulders and down her back.
She started when she caught a glimpse of another person in her peripheral vision. With a nervous laugh, she realized she’d seen her reflection in the full-length mirror. She studied herself and shrugged. Clad only in a red thong and matching lace bra, her black hair falling loose and undone, she looked worlds removed from the conservative corporate lawyer she presented to her colleagues. 
The lamp flickered, then went out, plunging the room into semi-darkness.
Samantha dropped the clothes onto the bed and let her eyes adjust. The wind picked up, howling an angry song. Scrub trees scraped the side of the house, a macabre accompaniment to the wind. Anxiety snaked through her. “I should have stayed in Richmond this weekend.”
Above the wail of the wind, she heard a door open and close. Samantha froze. She must have imagined the sound. Or maybe the cats were into something, or perhaps it was only a loose shutter. 
Footsteps echoed in the hallway.  
Definitely not the cats. Not a shutter either. 
Her heart raced. Oh, God. 
She groped for the sweater she’d thrown down. Sweater in hand, she looked frantically around for something to use as a weapon. 
Her bedroom door flew open and hit the wall with a loud bang. She screamed. A tall man, brandishing a baseball bat, stood silhouetted in the doorway. 
She threw the only thing she had in her hand at him--her sweater. He smacked it to the ground with the bat. The light suddenly came back on. She blinked as recognition dawned.
“Who the hell…?” he shouted above the thunder and the wind. His dark blue eyes widened and he sucked in a breath. Frowning, he lowered the bat. “Sam? I saw the car and wondered. But you? Why are you here?”
She couldn’t breathe as his hot gaze raked her. She’d never forgotten those eyes or that thick brown hair, or the dimple in his cheek when he smiled. She'd never forgotten that night five years ago either, that incredible night. Almost naked, feeling vulnerable, she folded her arms across her chest as if she could protect herself from the memories.  
“Aiden.” Her voice shook. Warmth curled in her stomach and wound lower, leaving her breathless from fright and remembered heat. 
He set the bat against the wall and glared at her, making her wonder if she’d imagined the desire in his eyes a second ago. “Sam, what the hell are you doing here?”
No one but Aiden called her Sam. 
The unexpected harshness of his voice brought her to the present. She scowled back at him. “What are you doing here? In my mother’s house?”
He pushed fingers through his hair, sending droplets of water flying, and studied her with eyes that sparked blue fire. This time there was no mistaking his desire. His gaze made another leisurely sweep of her body. “My God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered. “And still sexy as hell.”
Despite the embarrassment of her near-nakedness, her nipples pebbled under his scrutiny. He was smokin’ hot, and impressions flashed through her mind, as quick as the lightning outside--the feel of his lips on hers, the rough skin of his palms against her breasts. 
She should tell him to leave; she should get dressed. But caught in the sensual heat of her memories, she couldn’t move.
He broke the contact and looked away. When he turned back to her, his eyes were cool. “Get some clothes on, Sam. I’m a man, not a saint.”
“Maybe if you hadn’t charged in here scaring me half to death, I would have had time to dress.”
She glanced down and saw her short terry robe hanging out of her suitcase.
She grabbed it and pulled it on, tying the belt around her waist. Feeling armored, she propped a hand on her hip. “You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing here?”
“I promised your mom I’d take care of things while she’s away. I drove over from Rehoboth to check the house and get the cats. I would have been here sooner but the storm's made driving a mess.” He gave her a pointed look. “As you know.”
She ignored his jab. “You’re the friend who’s watching the cats?” At his nod, she said, “Well I’m here now. I’ll take care of them. You can leave.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw and he moved into the room. “Yeah. Right. You’re here now. Get dressed, Sam. We need to leave. All of us.”
At the seriousness in his eyes and voice, apprehension dashed up her spine.
She pulled on the ties of her robe again, fighting her unease. “What are you talking about?”
“The storm. We don’t have time to argue. Let’s find the cats and get the hell out of here.”
“Are you nuts?”
“You’re the one who’s nuts if you stay here.” He jutted his chin toward the windows. “Do you hear that? The storm of the decade and it’s only going to get worse. The Coastal Highway is taking on water. They’re evacuating everyone inland. Didn’t you notice cars going out but none coming in?”
“It’s January. There’s never much traffic here in January. Besides, I’ve been through plenty of nor’easters.”
“Then you know what happens when the highway floods.” 
A clap of thunder shook the house, as if to punctuate his statement.
Aiden reached out and turned her toward her suitcase. “We don’t have much time. Have you seen the cats? I don’t want to leave them alone. We don’t know when the authorities will allow us back in.”
She stepped away from him, then rubbed her arm as if she could erase the heat of his touch. “The cats ran past me into Mom's room a little while ago.”
“I’ll get the carriers. Get dressed, then we’ll get the cats.”
“Don’t order me around.”
He moved closer, invading her senses with his heat. His hair had begun to dry and curled softly over the collar of his black leather jacket. The dim light from the lamp touched his sharp cheekbones and full lips.
“Listen, princess, if we don’t get out now, we might be stuck here for days.”
Remembering the pleasure he’d given her with that mouth, she licked her suddenly dry lips. “Stuck here? With you?”
His eyes darkened and his gaze lingered on her mouth. “The two of us. Here. All alone.”  






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Sunday, June 24, 2012

CANT GET THERE FROM HERE

Can’t Get There From Here
Or
Road Construction and Storytelling

My turn to blog was rapidly approaching and I had no ideas. Nada. Not a one. With this on my mind, I headed out to the gym one sunny day. I go to the gym five times a week, a much needed physical break from the computer. On this day, I started the fifteen minute trip in a cheerful mood, enjoying the sunshine and looking forward to my workout on the exercise bike, my Kindle propped in front of me. I couldn’t wait to finish Adele DuBois’ excellent book, “Desert Wild.” I love to read while exercising, and to especially read erotic romance. I get good workouts from those sexy books. The hotter they get, the harder I pedal. I should market this as a new health regimen: read hot books as part of your fitness routine.

My trip went smoothly for seven minutes, then I hit a roadblock. Literally. Is there a lot of road construction where you live? Since last summer I’ve been surrounded by construction, reminding me of the adage, “You can’t get there from here.” As I sat in my car, fuming, as the construction worker held up the huge STOP sign, I started thinking about how writing a book is like hitting road construction.

I always know how each of my stories will begin and end. Like my trip to the gym, I know where I’m going. Also like my trip, I sometimes run into a huge STOP sign. I’ll be writing blissfully, everything going smoothly, following my outline. Then, wham! Roadblock! The story isn’t following the route I’ve mapped.

If I’m lucky, my characters will take me on a detour to a road that’s more exciting and adventuresome than the one I’d charted for them. In those cases, I follow their lead. However, with my current WIP, a romantic suspense, my characters took me down a bumpy road and began acting like the Keystone Cops and not a couple in danger. I had to pull them back onto the path I’d set for them. But how?

Not only had I run into a major roadblock, but my car (aka brain) stalled. I was stuck. My critique group said my hero was beginning to be TSTL (too stupid to live). He seemed to be my major problem. Maybe he didn’t like having a heroine who was kick-ass and could best him in a fight. Whatever the reason, he wasn’t acting like a hero. Where had I taken that wrong turn?

Several agonizing days followed, when finally the construction worker in my head turned the STOP sign to SLOW. I’d figured out how to make my hero heroic. I was driving down that highway again to my destination.

Has this ever happened to you? Have you been jolted to a stop because your story started to go in the wrong direction? What about you readers out there? Have you loved the beginning of a novel and settled in for an emotional, unforgettable ride only to have the book stall somewhere in the middle?

The roads around me are still congested by construction, delaying me everywhere I go. At least the work zone in my head has cleared.

Below is a little tease from my latest release, “Storm of Desire.” A raging January nor’easter causes a major detour in the lives of Samantha and Aiden. Only this emotional detour is wickedly sexy and wild.

Sam closed her eyes now and let that night [with Aiden] play out in her head like a movie. They’d barely made it into his apartment before they started stripping each other, leaving behind a trail of garments from the door to his bed.
Remembering his scorching mouth and hands, Sam touched her breasts under the thin silk of her nightgown. She massaged them, rolling the nipples between her fingers, pushing her breasts together, seeing Aiden as he’d been that night. He’d made love to her with a tempting combination of hunger and tenderness, worshipping her with his hands and mouth and body, unselfishly giving her fulfillment over and over before he found his own release.
Heat stole over her, putting her on edge. She shouldn’t have run from him tonight. Now that she’d tasted him again, she wanted to feast on him.
A loud rumble shook the house. Sam let out a small scream and sat up, clutching the comforter to her chest. Screeching, the cats ran off.
She heard footsteps, then her bedroom door flew open. “Sam! Are you okay?”
The flashlight Aiden held filtered dim light through the room and silhouetted his body in the doorway.
“Yes. What was that noise?”
He moved into the room. As her eyes adjusted, she saw he wore boxers that rode low on his slim hips. His legs were long and beautifully formed, and his chest bare, the muscles defined and taut.
Her breathing went shallow.
“It may have been a telephone pole going down, or maybe lightning hit a transformer,” he said. “I looked out, but I didn’t see anything.”
“It startled me, but I’ll be okay.” More than okay, she thought as she deliberately let the comforter slide down her torso. “Looks like the cats ran off though. They were keeping me warm.”
Aiden’s gaze went to her breasts, barely covered by the silk nightgown. Her nipples puckered. “I could keep you warm,” he offered, his voice thick.
She knew he wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want. The choice was hers.
“Then keep me warm, Aiden.”
 He sucked in an audible breath, took a step forward, then halted, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think so.”
“What?” Fresh humiliation washed over her as she sat there half-naked, hot tears forming in her eyes.
“You’ve been running hot and cold on me for what feels like my whole fucking life. And you’re doing it again. Not tonight, baby.” He turned away.
“Aiden, wait.”
He stopped with his back to her. “Go to sleep, Sam.”
She cast pride aside, knowing if he walked out now, he wouldn’t be back. “Please don’t go. I…I’m sorry about what happened earlier.”
“And the rest?” His voice was a barely disguised growl.
“I need you. Please.”



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