Fred Dawson yanked his face from the onslaught of cold water thrown by a passing car, but otherwise, he didn’t bother to acknowledge it. After what he’d been through the past few months, icy dirty water gushing over him was almost laughable. Except he’d yet found a good reason, or even the tiniest excuse, to laugh since he’d been home.
Home. He supposed it was home. It was at least as close as he had. Why he sat on a saturated wooden bench alongside the road past one a.m., in the rain no less, when he had a comfortable warm apartment waiting for him was anyone’s guess.
Truth be told, he did know. He would never admit it to anyone, but he did know. Life brimmed to the top out here. It was everywhere he looked. Normalcy. Shops with closed signs in the windows, the edges highlighted by security lights within. An all-night convenience gas station with an occasional customer stopping and dashing through the rain to get whatever he had to have at this time of the morning. Protection from a last-minute romantic encounter, maybe. A case of beer to get through the rest of the dark before daylight.
And the rain. It had a life of its own as well as producing and supporting life. He watched it run along the road in search of a drain to empty into. He focused on how it panged his bare arms and slid off, leaving goose bumps in its wake. He blinked it off his eyelashes, tasted its crispness on his lips.
The wet cold held a magnificence he would never be able to explain to anyone who hadn’t been out there in the desert, in the dry cold, the lifeless cold. The cold from which there was no escape, even huddled around the heater in the center of the tent. He never bothered to huddle. It did no good. Even when his outside was warm, his inner core was always cold.
~~
So starts Toward The Sky, my short moment in time story accepted by Classic Romance Revival for its premiere anthology.
Rain is an oft-used metaphorical device in fiction. There is so much it can say to a reader without having to actually say it. We’re all familiar with the verse: “Into each life, a little rain must fall.” Sometimes, it’s much more than a little. Some of us feel too many torrential downfalls or too often.
At the start of Toward The Sky, Daws has just come home from a very long deluge and sitting in the rain inviting it is a reflection of both his past and his personality. At some point, the strong who have been drenched often enough already simply raise their hands and say, “Okay then, bring it on.” This is Daws.
I stole Daws for Toward The Sky. He is actually the antagonist in my November 2009 novel, Off The Moon. That’s the one where Ryan, my young pop star with much to learn, is thwarted in his attempts to be as self-centered as he wants to be (or as part of him wants to be) by his bodyguard, Fred Dawson, aka Daws. There is more to the story of Daws and his relationship with Ryan than I could put in the novel, however, and so, this story came about to re-introduce him. This November during Nanowrimo, I plan to write his story, a love and redemption story, as well as a deeper look into Ryan’s past.
In the meantime, if you’re interested in reading this 2,000 word romance to find out what happens to Daws while he’s sitting in the rain along the street at the dead of night, go check out CRR’s The Cupid Diaries: Moments In Time. For only $2.99, you get stories by 13 different authors. It’s a great way to find “new to you” authors of all different romance subgenres.
And be sure to follow the mini blog carnival this week and read entries by some of the other anthology authors about their contributions!
http://www.classicromancerevival.com/blog/?p=1782
CRR will draw 10 winners from those commenting on the blogs during the carnival to win a copy of The Cupid Diaries, so be sure to let the authors know you stopped by!
Oh, and just as the rain, that so often signifies sorrow and distress in fiction and yet feeds the earth’s soul, my fiction often deals with sorrow and distress, but it always ends upbeat, and it hopefully leaves a bit of food for the reader’s soul.
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Saturday, June 19, 2010
Toward The Sky: Into Each Life
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Book Tour Day Three
Thank you to all who are visiting my tour! At today’s stop, I’m talking about Traveling Fiction: Places in Story with Sue Perkins:
http://sueperkinsauthor.blogspot.com/
Also, I now have PRE-ORDER available! Until the release date, shipping on a personally signed print copy of Off The Moon is free! After November 27th, there will be a small charge included to ship.
Ebook orders will be mailed a bookmark and bookplate, signed.
My complete tour schedule is here:
http://www.classicromancerevival.com/blog/?p=1520
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I’m still keeping up with Nanowrimo, as well, with over 7,000 words of a brand new novel! Nanowrimo.org -- find me if you’re there! I’m under lkhunsaker.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Wolves and the Moon: Metaphorical Symbolism in Reality Fiction
Why do wolves howl at the moon?
Well, they don’t, of course. Not in reality. They howl while the moon is out and literature – yes, we writers – perpetuates the howling wolf at a full moon scenario so often they are forever intertwined. Why not? Myth and legend are powerful things. In a strange way, they help us rationalize our world when nothing else makes sense. And it can be a lot of fun.
I don’t write paranormal, but I couldn’t help jumping in on the paranormal event here [originally posted at Lindsay’s Romantics Oct 2009) since I do draw on symbolism that comes from supernatural events to create metaphor in my next-to-come, Off The Moon.
The biggest superstition I pulled was that of the full moon relating to insanity. The book title is a hint at the heroine, Kaitlyn, who could be an actual case study for a psychologist (and may become that). It’s said that there are more “crazy” happenings and more suicides under a full moon. Statistics don’t verify that, but it’s so ingrained in our cultural myths by now that statistics hardly matter.
I hear you scientist type people out there groaning about now. But few will deny the power of the mind. Do strange things happen because of the full moon? Yes, I’m quite sure they do. Why? Because so many of us tell ourselves they do and thoughts are highly self-perpetuating. In other words, because we expect strange things to happen, we help cause them to happen or we relate it to the full moon when otherwise we wouldn’t.
I also used the wolf symbol as a metaphor. Wolves are strong animals, and familial. We all know the phrase, “wolves mate for life.” Wolves are also seen as lonely because of their mournful howl. In my novel, Ryan has a thing for wolves although he thinks of himself as rather an antithesis of a wolf. He’s independent but only to the point he has everyone else doing everything for him, pop star fashion, and he thinks his temporary companionships are all he wants in between his musical freedom. The wolf touches his soul, though, and he can’t deny its spirit within himself. Some authors have a hero turn into a werewolf to show his powerful animal nature. I have my anti-hero draw on his wolf spirit to turn into a hero.
Off The Moon is reality fiction highly steeped in symbols and metaphors often used in the paranormal world. The mating of the “crazy” heroine with the “wolf” anti-hero brings about sparks diffused by the calming symbolism of water.
Happy Halloween!
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About the Story:
"Riveting" Ryan Reynauld is immersed in a world of music, parties, and temporary companionship. Having risen to the top of the pop charts, his biggest concern is objecting to the way his music is produced. That is, until he finds a young woman standing on a window ledge. Against the advice of family and friends, and through media attacks and fan protests, Ryan determines to care for her himself, making a promise that threatens to destroy his career.
Convincing the skittish girl she can learn to trust again comes with a steep price. Sometimes the path to recovery begins by allowing your world to implode.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
I’m Going On Tour!
CRR Promotions has done a wonderful job booking me on blogs all through November to talk about my books and to promote my newest, Off The Moon, release date November 27th!
Come follow me! I’m giving away a new short story, unreleased, that goes with the novel as a bit of a prequel at each blog stop. A drawing will be held by each host. The story will be printed, signed, and mailed to each winner at the end of November. Also, anyone who follows me to at least 8 of the 15 stops is eligible for a drawing for a signed print copy of Off The Moon!
THANK YOU to the following blog tour hosts! Content will be different each day, to include author and character interviews. (I’m missing two links below but they will be added well in advance of the dates.)
I’ll be here to post reminders of where I’ll be and the subject for each blog. If you’d like an easy way to keep up, subscribe to my blog with the form to the right. Your email will not be shared or used for any other purpose than notification of new posts here.
| 01-Nov | Judah Raine |
| 03-Nov | Jane Richardson http://janerichardsonhomethoughts.blogspot.com/ |
| 05-Nov | Sue Perkins |
| 07-Nov | Linda Banche |
| 09-Nov | Sandra Kay |
| 11-Nov | Liana Laverentz |
| 13-Nov | Nancy O'Berry |
| 15-Nov | Sandra Sookoo http://www.sandrasookoo.wordpress.com/ |
| 17-Nov | Lainey Bancroft http://www.elaineforlife.com/LaineysBlog |
| 19-Nov | Lindsay’s Romantics http://lindsaysromantics.blogspot.com |
| 21-Nov | Maryann Miller |
| 23-Nov | Sandy James |
| 25-Nov | Lizzie Starr |
| 27-Nov | CRR - Release Date http://www.classicromancerevival.com/blog/ |
| 29-Nov | Steph Burkhart |
"Riveting" Ryan Reynauld is immersed in a world of music, parties, and temporary companionship. Having risen to the top of the pop charts, his biggest concern is objecting to the way his music is produced. That is, until he finds a young woman standing on a window ledge. Against the advice of family and friends, and through media attacks and fan protests, Ryan determines to care for her himself, making a promise that threatens to destroy his career.
Convincing the skittish girl she can learn to trust again comes with a steep price. Sometimes the path to recovery begins by allowing your world to implode.
Elucidate Publishing
November 2009
http://www.elucidatepublishing.net
Monday, July 27, 2009
Wishing They Existed?
For the next two weeks, one of the blogs I’m a member of is featuring a heroes tribute, meaning fictional heroes in romance. I look forward to reading each post, in seeing the different and similar viewpoints about what defines a hero. Technically, a romance hero simply means the main male character. He can be in all different forms from moody and distant to funny but strong.
There are similarities within heroes of each writing era. In early days of genre romance it was normal for the hero to take what he wanted from his heroine. That was encouraged by publishers. Not so anymore. If you write that kind of hero in your novels now, good luck getting a publisher to accept it. Now readers want strong but good-hearted heroes, those who would never take advantage because of their strength. He does have to be willing to fight for his heroine in some form, though. Most end up in some kind of physical fight for their heroines, and yet in dealings with her, are very kind and soothing.
One of the excerpts posted on the Lindsay’s Romantics blog showed one of these hunks rescuing and then soothing his heroine. A comment asked why couldn’t there be heroes like that in real life.
Well, of course there are heroes like that in real life. I’ve seen plenty. I happen to live with one of my own. I think sometimes we don’t tend to notice what heroes our men are because of how toned down our world is as compared to medieval days of castles and armored knights. Also, in fiction we have the advantage of skipping over daily mundane activities such as grocery shopping and taking care of our certain personal needs no one wants to read about. We don’t have to show clothing dropped beside the bed instead of placed neatly in the bathroom hamper or dishes left on the counter instead of rinsed and dropped into the dishwasher. Those things don’t make good fiction except in comedic fiction where it’s used for effect. They do, however, tend to diminish our heroes in our eyes because we do have to deal with them on a daily basis.
How many of us women think our men wouldn’t actually step in to be our rescuer if needed? I happen to think most would. I know without a doubt mine would. Heck, he even asks people not to smoke in a non-smoking section for me. That may be a mild rescue, but it’s still a rescue and should be acknowledged as such.
Look at our soldiers. We have many heroes fighting for us on a daily basis, even though some of the population they’re fighting for may not approve of what they’re doing (and fictional heroines often don’t, 
There are, indeed, still heroes today. We may have to look beneath the chinked and faded armor, but they are around us. Sometimes it’s the heroine’s fault when a hero doesn’t act a hero. Sometimes we’re too busy looking at the annoying little things to bother seeing the hero within. That’s a shame.
~~ visit Lindsay’s Romantics this week and next to get your hero fix!
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Sunday, June 28, 2009
I Read Romance. Why?
This is a blog-hogger challenge from Judah Raine:
http://judahraine.com/romancewriteup/
Romance fiction has to be the most underrated genre, especially as it has the highest sales constantly. Why? Misunderstandings and misinformation, both accidental and intentional.
If you've followed the book market at all, you'll know that sales are down, that publishers are struggling, that most fiction writers barely make money on their books if they make anything. That's all true. However, like movie theater attendance, romance fiction sales have risen in recent times. Why? People are looking for uplifting escapism.
I have an admission. I haven't read a whole lot of genre romance. I didn't read it much as a teen and I haven't much during my adult years. Why? Perception. I see those steamy covers showing a male's full bare chest or a female's buxom-centered image or a couple locked in a sensual embrace and I figure I'm getting a bunch of steam and descriptive detail I don't want and so walk farther down to a different aisle. I understand why publishers create those covers. They do tend to sell books. Understood. Who can fight against the almighty dollar (or pound or peso or lira, etc)? However, they also lose readers that way. They lose those of us who love actual romance but who don't love minute description of sex scenes. Romance and sex are not the same and do not have to be put in the same bin! Yes, I say that a lot. I'll keep saying it. Why? Because I write romantic fiction and I enjoy reading romantic fiction, but I do not write or read porn (aka erotica). If you do, that's all well and fine. I don't. Many others don't, either, both readers and writers.
Real romance is beautiful. It's elegant. It's psychological. It's physical. It's necessary. And it's everywhere.
The flowers and box of chocolate in the photo above are not fictional. My husband gave them to me for Valentine's Day a few years ago. I see eye-rolling as I type this. Valentine's Day is nothing but commercial. Everyone says so now. I say it's not. I say it depends how you treat it. I say celebrating love is important. It's not corny. It's not childish. It's not selling out. It's real. And it's needed. And we can't be happy without it.
So yes, I do read romance. I've read more romance in the last couple of years since meeting so many romance writers who believe the way I do that romance is romance and sex should be tasteful and optional. There are tons of us out there who believe this whole-heartedly, which by the way is the only correct way to love -- whole-heartedly. And yes, I write romance. I write about the beauty of it, the pain of it, the longing and confusion and elation of it. I write struggles and fear and misconceptions. I write the "why" of it. I write down to the depths of it. In the end, though, the only real answer I ever find truly is love.
Love may not be all we need (with my apologies to the Beatles), but it does need to be involved in everything else we need.
If you don't want to carry books with "those" kinds of covers, get them in Ebook format and carry them on some kind of reader others won't see. Or order them from your local independent bookstore and read those at home. Or pick up one of those book sox kids use for school books. We can't make publishers stop printing them that way, at least not all publishers. Authors often don't have a choice with their covers. But some really good stuff lies within. The saying is true: you can't always judge a book by its cover. Really. Look deeper.
You can find more writers who agree by checking the Classic Romance Revival page linked to the right.
Any other writer or reader interested in taking up the topic and running with it? Sign your name here and leave your link to where you post it: http://judahraine.com/romancewriteup/?page_id=635
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Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Write What You Know - but what does that mean??
In the process of research today, I was trying to find a specific type of establishment in NYC that would work for my story. Now, I've been to NYC briefly and plan to go back, but I don't have the option to run spend several days there just for story research. It would be nice, but let's face reality: when you have kids at home and a job and such and you aren't the owner of Trump Tower with a private jet, there are restrictions on doing such things.
Internet research wasn't working well. I had the look in my head for the place I needed but try putting that in a search engine. It didn't work well. Finally, I went to Yahoo Answers and asked people who would know: NYC residents. I answer lots of questions there about books and writing and sometimes other subjects, so I figured getting a touch of return help would be nice.
The first answer I received started by saying: "The first rule of writing ... write what you know."
Hm. Yes, that's helpful. Thanks so much. He did also mention a name of a place that might work but I was rather annoyed at the inference that I didn't know what I was doing that I didn't bother to check the place. [Luckily, the second answer was exactly what I was looking for! He'll get 10 points for being not rude and very helpful.]
Write what you know. So he meant I shouldn't put my character in New York City since I don't know it well? Or that I should use only the places in the city I do personally know? I am using one, a small music venue I enjoyed, if it matters. I know the feel of the city enough for the story. I know enough that it needs to be mainly set in Manhattan instead of another borough. My main character is heavily into the music industry. Let's see, if I can only write about the places I've been long enough to write with any real detail about them, the story would have to be set in Illinois, Texas, Massachusetts, Idaho, Georgia, Virginia, Pennsylvania, or Germany. None of those work real well for this character. Actually, none of them work at all. Yes, I set Rehearsal in MA but it worked for them. Or does that mean I can't write about a character in the music industry since I've never lived in any of the three big music industry spots in the US? Not to mention I've never been involved in the music industry itself. That's what research is for!
I'd like to tell this "top contributor" that writing what you know does not mean using only settings you know first hand. How limited would that make the literary world? What about historical fiction? Should no one write about time periods they didn't live in? How sad would it be to lose all those magnificent stories of the past?
Writing what you know is much deeper than that. It's writing the truths you've learned, the things you've seen, the thoughts you've had, and feelings you've felt. It's putting yourself IN your work and adding all those luscious true-to-life things that make books "real" instead of simply described. It doesn't mean write about your life as a memoir, which is okay also, but limiting. It means to take those things and turn them into fiction that echoes real life, that shares yourself and your experiences.
I write what I know. I have always studied people and families and relationships to watch what makes them work or not work. I make note of societal issues that stand out in my mind because maybe I have some valuable thoughts or ideas to share about them. I think things through. I know things. I see things happen and the effects of those happenings. I write about them. It's fiction, of course. I use them differently than they were in real life but the same -- the same concepts, the same issues, the same relationships. Or different relationships based on how things might have worked "if" only....
THAT is writing what you know. Is my story invalidated because I don't know which NYC restaurant has the look and location I need for a certain scene? I don't think so. The story is about love, loss, despair, hanging on, and letting go -- all things I do know first hand. If I was doing a documentary about NYC, then I would see his point. Otherwise, it's way off base. So is anyone else who tells a writer not to do a story in a place she's never been. That would throw out all sci fi and fantasy also, wouldn't it?
Write what you know INSIDE. Write what you FEEL. Write what matters to you, what you care about. Use details from your everyday life such as the moist breeze blowing against your cheek while standing on a beach, or the pounding, clacking noise of a nearby train station, or the way you feel when someone takes your hand and says it's going to be all right. Use that. Use your own reality. And put it anywhere in the world your character needs to be. The rest can be researched.
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Thursday, June 04, 2009
Setting: The Watery Breath of a Story
"Water is the driving force of all nature."
Leonardo da Vinci
As water is the underlying basis for everything that lives, so setting is to every story that breathes.
Everything has to happen somewhere.
How do authors choose where their stories will happen? ~shrug~ I can't speak for others, as we all have our different reasons for sticking our characters wherever we stick them. Generally, it's love: the love of history or love of a certain place we visited or love of the unknown. With me, it tends to be a mix of all three.
By now, I've lived in six states and two countries and have traveled* a lot in between. [side note below] I've also taken an incredible cultural psychology class that further emphasized how we are affected by where we live. In the words of Anais Nin, "We don't see things as they are, we see things as we are." Setting is not only a place; it's character. It's part of who our characters are and novelists who ignore that are missing a huge chance to fill in the depths of the story.
Aphrodite, the ancient Greek goddess of love, was born of the sea.
from pureinsideout.com
In my first-to-publish novel, Finishing Touches, Jenna is a small town Midwest girl raised nearly on the banks of the Illinois River. The river and trees surrounding it play a large part of her story, the trees being symbolic of her inner strength and deep roots and the river of her unbound soul that flows along where life takes her. There's also the little bridge mentioned that she crosses over, pausing to look down into the shallow creek. A bridge is a metaphor for crossing a boundary, for change, or for pulling the two different parts of her life together. In 
When I first started writing the Rehearsal series in notes and scattered scenes and character development, I was still in that small Illinois town, but my thoughts were always wandering elsewhere. I wanted to go out and see new things, explore new places. I couldn't do it often at that time, but my characters did. As a result, they are more worldly than Jenna, all transplanted from the beginning of the story which makes the setting less woven into their characters. Two are from Pennsylvania, three from New Hampshire, one from the UK. The story is set in Massachusetts, roughly thirty miles from Boston. However, it takes them out of their adopted town often, into other places, a metaphor for my own wanderlust.
Each of us "belongs" in a certain place. It may not be where we were raised. There may be some other place that calls out to us and helps us feel more settled once we're there. For me, that place was temporarily the Northeast and permanently the Mid-Atlantic. We lived in Massachusetts for some time and I adored the area, was sad to have to leave. At the same time, when we passed through Pennsylvania to go back to visit family in Illinois, it called to me, as it had during family vacations when I was young. And so, my two main characters from Rehearsal, Evan and Susie, had to be from Pennsylvania. I set them in the eastern part of the state so it 
would work better with the story, but put Evan's alma mater on the western edge. When putting him there, I never in the world expected to end up living so close to it.
My New Hampshire characters are supporting cast. I wanted them transplanted instead of being Massachusetts locals in order to give them that extra edge. Their personalities aren't MA personalities. It wouldn't have worked. I have yet to visit New Hampshire, so if anyone from the state wants to comment on whether they fit, I'd love to hear it! Of course, you'd have to read the book to find out. ;-)
"It is a curious sensation: the sort of pain that goes mercifully beyond our powers of feeling. When your heart is broken, your boats are burned: nothing matters any more. It is the end of happiness and the beginning of peace."
George Bernard Shaw
My next-to-come book, Off The Moon (fall 2009), has two main settings: New York City and Bennington, Vermont. The main character is heavily in the music industry and so it worked well to have him in the midst of one of the music centers of the nation. His family is in Vermont, which worked in different ways: it's a short enough drive from NYC so he's able to run back and forth easily, it's another place I've yet to visit (love of the unknown), and it has a wonderful lake setting that's important to the story since he adores boats and owns a pontoon he uses to escape his busy city life. With any luck, I'll be visiting the area before putting the final touches on the book. However, he grew up a military brat, so for him, place is very fluid and the lack of deep roots shows through his personality and his actions.
If you haven't figured it out yet, water plays a big role in all of my stories. I'm drawn to lakes, rivers, oceans, and even small trickling streams. I love to swim. I love to watch and photograph waterfalls. I love to be on boats of any kind. I think it's unlikely I'll write a book without this feature, as it's too embedded into who I am.
"My books are like water; those of the great geniuses are wine.
(Fortunately) everybody drinks water."
Mark Twain
I'm currently in process of adding photos of some of the settings in my books to albums on my website. So far, I have the Finishing Touches album done and most of those photos were taken by family members. More setting albums will come soon.
*** This entry is part of Classic Romance Revival's Blog Carnival. Go to CRR to find more authors writing on the subject of setting! www.ClassicRomanceRevival.com/blog ***
“The Truth is you are a part and parcel of the great being. You are one of the cells of the Great Being, you can call it. And once a drop falls into a ocean, it becomes an ocean. And once you become the ocean, you see the whole world in a different way, and understand the whole world as a beautiful place of enjoyment.”
Carl Gustav Jung
[side note: For those who have read the Rehearsal books, yes, I spell traveled as "travelled" in the series intentionally. There are two reasons for this: back when I was in grade school studying spelling lessons, many of the consonants were still doubled as they tend to be in British English, including travelled. I well remember when that started to change and balked at the idea. I don't always do change well. And I like the way the world looks better with two "L"s instead of one. As this series started to come to life way back during my school days in the 70s, I left it "travelled" as it was still spelled then. Also, much of the series is set in the 70s and so it's appropriate to use the spelling of the time. There's also the third main character who is from the UK and so would also spell it in that manner. Other than in the series, I sigh and conform and drop the extra letter.]
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Thursday, May 07, 2009
Author Interview: Francesca Prescott
The other day I reviewed Francesca Prescott's debut romantic comedy, Mucho Caliente!, for my new role as an official reviewer for Classic Romance Revival. You can find the review here:
http://www.classicromancerevival.com/blog/?p=428
You may want to pop over and read that first and then return for Prescott's lovely words of wisdom and insight in the interview she kindly granted:
Hi Francesca! Thank you for being here.
First things first, is there anything about my review of Mucho Caliente! you'd like to discuss, argue, etc?
Hi Loraine,
I was impressed by your review, as you mentioned things about my book that other reviewers never had. You talked about the issue of self-acceptance brought on by being an artsy type in a business world, which, in my opinion, is an important one in “Mucho Caliente!”. Personally, I often feel somewhat “out-of-sync” during social gatherings grounded in business, as it’s as if my mind doesn’t quite connect on the same wave-length as those of the people carrying on conversations around me. It can be rather unsettling, as I’ll immediately start worrying whether the other people are wondering if I’m altogether there! Truthfully, chances are I’m not, because my mind will be busy with random, visual details, or drifting off somewhere else entirely, simply because I’m shy, I’m out of my element and - oh dear! - fundamentally, not that interested! But if I am interested, I’m there two hundred percent, and will remember even the tiniest, most insignificant details forever.
You also mentioned in your review that you never quite connected with Emilio Caliente as a real person, and were not convinced that Gemma moves from seeing him as a pop star to seeing him as simply Emilio. It’s true that we don’t learn much about Emilio’s psyche in “Mucho Caliente!”. In my defense, I’ll say that this probably stems from the fact that the book is written in the first person, present tense, and focuses intensely on Gemma’s thoughts and actions. I “became” Gemma while writing the book, and therefore felt her strong connection with Emilio. I can honestly say that felt I “knew” Emilio so well by the end of the story that I was as much in love with him as Gemma was. In real life, I’m still in awe of my husband’s capacities, be they intellectual, creative, humoristic, etc. Somewhere in my mind, he’s still that gorgeous, perfect individual that I so desperately needed to impress. Relationships are an endless, fascinating, learning curve, don’t you think?
Ah, yes, and that's good for us all to remember, that relationships are on a constant move! I agree about the first person POV and I missed mentioning it in my review, but although I rarely like first person fiction, I thought this was the perfect way to tell Gemma's story and it came across well, was well done. And it is true that in real life we rarely connect with another as intensely as novels generally show, since we are only seeing from our own perspective, so it came off as very real!
In staying with the "real" theme, I love the premise of Gemma being embarrassed by her infatuation with Emilio Caliente, pop star, because pop is often looked down on much the way romance novels are. I've never heard of anyone being embarrassed to be a fan of, say Chicago or Journey or of mainstream writers such as Joyce Carol Oates, but that does seem untrue of boy bands and romance books. Was there a correlation between the two in mind while planning the book? Any insights as to why this would be?
I’ve always loved mainstream pop-music. I love catchy tunes and lyrics that I can sing-along to. There’s something deeply satisfying, not to mention uplifting, about going to a concert and being able belt out every single song along with the performer. As far as I’m concerned, I become euphoric, get goose-bumps and even cry tears of joy! Were I a performer, this is the kind of response I’d strive to receive from my audience. However, in my experience, this rarely happens as it calls for a very special connection, an extreme generosity, and an honest, mutual love and acceptance. I’ve been to many very good concerts, where I’ve come away impressed on an intellectual level, but few have taken me to a state of euphoric, blissed-out, shiny-eyed, extreme happiness. Come to think of it, the only performers that have taken me to that level are “lowly” pop artists! You want names?! One that springs to mind is Ricky Martin, particularly during his concert two years ago in Barcelona, and the other is British boy-band Take That in Zurich, a few months later. The atmosphere during both concerts was fabulously festive; both arenas were literally heaving with joy from the very first note. And yes, I’ve often been on the receiving end of little smiles of disdain when asked about my musical tastes. I’ve taken snide comments about the bubble-gum, commercial rubbish I like to listen to. The thing is, such comments are often so petty and cliché! Besides, it’s extremely hard to write a perfect, classic pop-song that will sound as good today as it will in twenty, thirty, forty years. Look at Abba! Who wanted to admit loving Abba when they appeared out of nowhere and won the Eurovision Song Contest in 1974! Yet their songs sound just as fresh today as they did back then.
Not that I’m knocking other types of music, nor am I saying that people who aren’t particularly swayed by pop music are pseudo-intellectual snoots who should get a grip. The music I enjoy listening to extends way beyond pop; what I play depends on my moods. However, I’ve never been able to enjoy jazz, probably because I’m always trying to find a tune, and chances are there isn’t one!
In regard to the literary snobbism often extended towards romance books, yes, I do find it irritating. I went to a literary conference a few years ago where I felt utterly out of place after announcing I was writing a romantic comedy. Cue disdainful, condescending little smiles, pained expressions, and pinched nostrils; everyone else was writing “serious fiction”. Talk about social suicide! But somewhere deep inside, despite my shyness, I must be a bit of a rebel: Mucho Caliente! is a romantic comedy involving a lowly pop star, and it’s written in the first person, present tense! Three major no-nos; ooh-la-la! But from what I’ve gathered, my book makes people smile. It makes people happy. It’s sheer entertainment. It’s literary pop music!
Wonderful insights! I completely agree. I've often wondered why anyone should look down on something that truly makes so many other people happy! Whether it's pop or romance, both of which are truly very connecting mediums, maybe more so than other genres, if it's touching peoples hearts and souls, it's worth its weight in gold, regardless of critics. And I have to say that's one thing I really liked about your book, that it ventures outside the commonalities of the romance genre and reaches more toward literary romance, unconventional, unusual, and delightfully rebellious. Of course, we should also stop and realize that both pop music and romance novels, both while being so "disdained" are the biggest selling genres. ;-)
Francesca, are there any of Gemma's qualities you particularly relate to?
Like Gemma, I tend to over-analyze situations, I worry about the most ridiculous things, I often lack self-confidence. But as my thirteen year old niece once said when she was much younger, “if you don’t go to the party, you don’t get a balloon.” Some parties are worth going to (lots of balloons!), others less so. Basically, I’ve learned to push myself towards new challenges if I sense the outcome will be beneficial, if I think that I’ll learn from it, that I might grow. Gemma grows by daring to make changes in her life and by trusting her instincts, even if she’s a big chicken at heart. I’m a big chicken, but I’ll blow the coop if I feel there’s something worthwhile on the other side.
Incredible lesson, there! So tell us about your feature in Ibiza Style! How does one who describes herself as shy deal with an article interview and photoshoot? Where can we find it?
Being interviewed by Ibiza Style magazine was a chance opportunity that I cemented by simply daring to believe that it might be possible, that there was no harm in trying, that the worst they could say was “no.” As a writer, I’ve grown accustomed to being told “no,” so one more wasn’t going to reduce me to tears. I simply emailed the editor of the magazine, explaining who I was, what I’d accomplished and what the book was about. Of course, the fact that “Mucho Caliente!” is set in Ibiza made it more alluring to him. To my knowledge, there is very little fiction written about the island. I sent the book over, he read it, enjoyed it, so I flew over for the interview, never expecting there’d be a photoshoot involved!
What I did expect, however, was to be extremely nervous before meeting Jurgen, the editor of Ibiza Style, for the interview. Strangely enough, I wasn’t. I suppose I was confident enough about my book to know that I’d be fine discussing it with him. I’m passionate about writing, about Ibiza, about the themes in my book, as well as about all sorts of other things, so I figured it couldn’t be so terrible. I mean, if he wanted to write about me, he wasn’t going to bash me, was he?! Sure, we might not have connected at all, but as it happened, we got along extremely well and had plenty of things to talk about. The tape recorder was a little intimidating initially, but I soon forgot about it; after a few minutes, it was just like talking to a friend about things that make me tick. I enjoyed myself, and really liked him. On the other hand, had he shown up with a team of people to listen in on the conversation, I’d probably have clammed up. I’m not good in big groups!
As for the photoshoot, we did that the following day. Jurgen is also a photographer, so he came to the house where I was staying, and we just carried on from where we’d left off. As I said, I was comfortable with him, so all I had to do was listen to his directions, and try to look as relaxed and as pretty as possible! And frankly, I was delighted with the photographs. I was even more delighted when I saw the article in the magazine: I never expected four pages!
Ibiza Style is available from the German Amazon, www.amazon.de . It is a trilingual magazine, all the articles are in English, German and Spanish. It was particularly fun for me to see the first few paragraphs of my book translated into German and Spanish, as I do hope that, one day, the book will be available in other languages. It is a very multicultural book, so I’m convinced it could be appreciated by a wider audience. You can also download the magazine on-line from : http://www.pressekatalog.de/IBIZA+%26+FORMENTERA+STYLE-ebinr_2079263.html?PT=&CSS=995&fachstichwort=ibiza&gattung=PUP%2CFAP%2CINP&angebotsform=ABO%2CEZH%2CATK&backlist=True&Catalogswitch=3 . However, the instructions on the link are in German, which might be a little daunting if, like me, you don’t speak Deutsch! Otherwise, you can read the article and view the photos on my website: www.francescaprescott.com.
What do you do in your down-time for relaxation, other than reading?
When I’m not writing, or reading, I’m usually running around taking care of my family’s needs, so have little down-time. My other big passion is horses; my daughter and I share a dressage horse, so I spend a lot of time at the stables. I go to Pilates classes twice a week to keep myself in supermodel shape (ha ha!), and take care of my garden, which, right now, is simply stunning.
I see on your website you're considering a sequel to Mucho Caliente!. I, for one, would love to read their story farther down their relationship line. Do you have a plot idea in mind for it, or is it still in the maybe stage?
I am considering writing a sequel to Mucho Caliente!, but only once I’ve finished working on my dramedy, Turn Left at the Ocean, which I’m currently in the process of re-writing. This is a much more complicated book than Mucho Caliente!, the story is a lot bigger; it’s practically a saga in its sheer scope. It is set between California, England, Sicily and the Greek island of Ithaca. I hope to be finished by the end of the year. After that, I’ll start thinking about a potential sequel to Mucho Caliente!. I have a few ideas, but I don’t like working on more than one book at a time. I get so involved with my characters lives that I can’t just put them on hold while I attend to the intense demands of new ones!
Oh, I do truly look forward to your dramedy, as I see the potential for even more literary style there, and such gorgeous settings. Francesca, thank you for taking time out of your schedule to be here. Best of luck with Mucho and your future work!
Thank you, Loraine, for your great review of Mucho Caliente! and for your extremely interesting questions that I’ve really enjoyed answering. I wish you all the best with your writing, too!
xx Francesca
Mucho Caliente
Francesca Prescott
Bookstrand, Romantic Comedy
ISBN: 978-1-60601-170-6
340 pgs, sensual
http://www.francescaprescott.com
--
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
When a Thing becomes a Character
What happens when part of a setting is so completely integrated into a story that it magically transforms from a Thing into a Character?
Take this rock wall from a photo I snapped somewhere along one of our road trips. It could simply be part of the setting -- background detail to help ground the reality of where our characters are and what they see, maybe even showing how they feel about it that defines them somewhat. This is the typical use of description, even when it's describing such a gorgeous scene as this wall.
On the other hand, it could become such an important part of the story that the story wouldn't be the same without it. It could be a catalyst for a character to change. Maybe he passes it every day and ponders it for miles afterwards, so much so that it becomes a part of him. Maybe he becomes as rigid and strong as that rock wall while allowing enough subtle growth to let himself flourish like the hardy vegetation hanging on to its side.
I used this device in Finishing Touches, my novel about a young artist fighting against being an artist because she marries one and feels she can't compete with him. Throughout the story, she often refers to the huge window in their loft that allows her to look out at the world while staying safely closed within. To my delight, one of my readers picked up on the characterization of the window and how it helped define Jenna herself. It reflects her struggle to look out or to stay in, her urging to explore her art and use it, or to give in to her insecurity of not being good enough. This theme reaches beyond art and into other areas of her life.
Her artist spouse, who she loses just before the story begins, paints a scene of them wrapped in only a blanket looking out at the river below. The window, here, becomes a metaphor of the exposure Jenna feels because of his professional career, because she becomes known as his wife and attracts another young artist who is a fan of his work. Still, it keeps a boundary. She may be exposed but she's beyond anyone's bounds to be able to reach. Or so she believes.
The window becomes a character. The story would hardly be the same story without it.
[originally posted at Lindsay's Romantics 26 March 09: http://lindsaysromantics.blogspot.com]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Finishing Touches is available as a Trade Paperback and as an Ebook. Find its website for more information at LKHunsaker.com/FT/main.htm
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Different Drummer: Serialized #5
Rehearsal: A Different Drummer
LK Hunsaker
www.LKHunsaker.com
www.lkhunsaker.com/DifferentDrummer/main.htm
© 2006 All Rights Reserved
11 March 1974
Keeping her mind on the notes about what her students needed to practice proved impossible. She kept seeing the echo of Duncan’s eyes when he and Evan came to her door to escort her to work. The bright blue snares pulled her in, casting a gaze beyond simple flirting. Evan’s questioning look told her she had stared too long. He had shaved, the intensity showing even more with the bare skin accenting his rigid jaw line and eyes that were less tired. The handshake when they met was still as vivid as while he was still holding her.
He was the kind of guy she would avoid except that he was Evan’s friend, and Evan was more particular than most about whom he called a friend. He had a lot of acquaintances, and people naturally gravitated toward him, but he kept a wall between himself and others. Occasionally, he found someone he would let inside. Susie could count them on one hand: herself, his mom, her dad, Mike … and Duncan. Even Stu and Doug were still somewhere between acquaintances and friends, though she did count them as her friends. But she wasn’t quite as discerning. She needed people more than Evan did.
Deciding that trying to concentrate was a waste of time, Susie got up from the small work table in the teachers’ lounge and reclaimed the bag holding her cassettes and dance shoes. There had to be a free room at this time of the day, since most classes were in the afternoon and evening.
Walking down the quiet hallway, she paused for a moment to watch Janet teach an adult class. Her friend was great with adults and a good studio manager. Of course, she was nearly eight years older than Susie, three years older than Evan, but then, most of the teachers were closer to Janet’s age. Susie was the youngest, but just as qualified as anyone else working there. She had to remind herself of that now and then.
“Hi, Susie. You’re in early today.”
She smiled at Monica’s greeting. “I rode in with Evan.”
“How is he? I haven’t seen him here recently.”
“He’s fine, working longer hours since he’s been short-handed at the gym, and busy with the band, as usual.”
“Oh? Are they playing this weekend?”
“Friday night, at Maggie’s. You might want to come if you can. I think he’s talked his friend into playing and the new sound is great.”
“Maybe I will. Ronnie has cousins visiting and I don’t want them in my house all weekend.”
Susie chuckled as the bookkeeper left, and continued down the hall. They were the strangest couple. Monica was a straight-laced and highly intelligent business woman, the studio’s accountant, and Ronnie … well, Waylon Jenning’s Good-hearted Woman came to mind whenever Susie saw them together, thanks to Evan’s mom’s fervor for country music. Susie personally didn’t care for Ernest Tubb, or much of country music, though she did like that song. From what she’d heard of Waylon’s voice so far, she believed he should sing it himself and do a better job.
Finding an empty room, she slipped out of her flats and into her ballet shoes, beginning with a warm-up stretch, then falling in with the music. Thoughts of Evan and his friend dissolved into energetic strains of Mozart’s Symphony Number 40 and the luxurious feel of her muscles following years of training. She rarely wore toe shoes while working out, preferring the naturalness of the soft, well-worn slippers. Ballet was her first love, other than her parents. Evan was her second. She wasn’t sure which would come first if she ever had to choose.
She danced through the symphony and a serenade, then pulled her toe shoes on to practice her routine for the show. The theme was musicals and each teacher had chosen one musical to use for themselves and their students. She decided on “West Side Story,” with her four- and five-year-old ballet class dancing to I Feel Pretty, and the same age jazz class performing Cool. Her older students were covering the best songs on the rest of the soundtrack, with her soloist performing Tonight on pointe. It was her first show having a student in toe shoes, and she was more nervous about that routine than her own.
Susie was starting her section with Something’s Coming, dancing lead in jazz with her jazz students joining her, and they would end with her ballet students accompanying her solo on Somewhere. The teachers and assistants who actually spoke to her had given her compliments on the choreography. The others had been avoiding her even more.
The song ended and she glanced at the clock. Another hour until she went to meet Evan. Maybe she would be able to study her notes now that she had used some energy.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
A Different Drummer: serialized #4
Rehearsal: A Different Drummer
LK Hunsaker
Mainstream Romance (15+)
Available in print and Ebook
** Website **
10 March, fourth stanza
Evan watched Duncan studying his best friend.
He was obviously attracted to her, but, so was every other male she met. Why wouldn’t any man be interested? She was beautiful, and not only on the outside, but also from within. The shiny, long black hair contrasting with her dark blue eyes and alabaster skin, along with her perfect features – she really did have the most perfectly shaped facial features – were just the frame she had to have. Anything less would have been unnatural. A Monet couldn’t go into a garage sale frame.
For Duncan to so overtly show interest in a girl, any girl, though was … well, Evan had never seen it. Girls were constantly doing the same to his friend, but he rarely paid much attention to any of them, even when he was dating one. Although dating wasn’t exactly what Evan would call it. A date generally involved getting to know your companion and that didn’t seem to ever happen with Duncan and his … flings.
He was still quiet as they sat around the apartment, pizza having been delivered and consumed, the rest stored in the refrigerator. Stu kept trying to draw Duncan in to the conversation, and his friend wasn’t being rude, exactly. He had again chosen the chair furthest from the others and answered direct questions but didn’t elaborate. Although Evan knew Duncan’s knowledge of music would easily rival Stuart’s.
“We need more good rock and less of this mushy stuff that’s trying to pass for rock or pop or whatever it’s trying to pass for. Look at John Denver. Sunshine … on my shoulders….” Stu sang the first line, and went back to complaining. “What is that? A child could write those lyrics. And if you can’t sing more than two notes, then why bother?”
Susie pulled a leg up beneath her. “It’s easy listening.”
“Easy for who? Please.” He went on to sing the next line, in a fairly close imitation, then shook his head. “Is he kidding, or what?”
“Maybe some of us are tired of the whining about how bad things are with the world. You know, there’s a place for every type of music. Just because it doesn’t have Led Zeppelin’s strength or Eric Clapton’s technique doesn’t mean it’s not good. I like John Denver’s music. It’s soothing.”
“You’re a girl. What do you know?”
“Excuse me? I’ve been into music almost as long as you have been. No, I don’t play it, but I listen to all kinds, and I had my own music teacher.” She nodded toward Evan. “And being male or female has nothing to do with being able to appreciate music.”
“You like Clapton?”
She turned her attention to Duncan, who spoke voluntarily for the first time since returning to the apartment. “Yes. Not all of the songs, but I love his playing and his voice. I really like Lovin’ You Lovin’ Me. It’s beautiful.”
“The words … or the music?”
Susie stared. Evan couldn’t tell whether she was deciding how to answer, or wondering why Duncan had finally decided to start talking. A girl who was into Clapton would definitely get his friend’s attention.
“Both … together. I really can’t like a song if I don’t like both the music and lyrics. If one or the other irritates me, I won’t listen to it.”
“There are a lo’ of songs out there that have great music, though, even if the words are no’ good.”
“I’m sure there are, but what is the point of listening to them if it’s not enjoyable? Isn’t that what music is for?”
“Sometimes. Bu’ sometimes it is just about the feeling of it.”
“Well, maybe so, but, unless the feeling is supposed to be irritation, the words have to be as good as the music. Otherwise, it doesn’t work.”
Evan couldn’t keep from laughing. She wouldn’t appreciate it, but he knew Duncan was baiting her, testing.
She shot him an annoyed look. “And why are you laughing? You know that as well as I do. Don’t you dare join the boys’ club, here, and act like I don’t know anything just ‘cause I’m a girl. I swear I’ll never talk to you again.”
He raised his eyebrows, trying to control another chuckle. “Oh, I think you will. You never stay mad at me long.”
“There’s a first time for everything.” Her expression was serious but the sparkle in her eyes gave her away.
“I’m not laughing at you. Of course you’re right.”
“Then what is so funny?”
Duncan jumped in. “I jus’ wondered if you would argue. Most girls will no’ argue with a musician abou’ music. None I have met, anyway.”
Evan watched his friend. He seemed more himself the longer he talked to her. If he would shave the beard…
“She’s not a girl; she’s just one of us. Evan raised her more like a brother than a sister.”
He began to answer Stu, but she beat him to it. “Evan did not raise me. And he’s not my brother.”
“You grew up in the same house. What’s the difference?”
Her eyes threw daggers at Stu, then looked at Evan, for help maybe? But what could he say? That he didn’t want to be thought of as her brother, either? And what reason would he give? Nothing he wanted her to hear. Nothing he was ready to admit out loud.
She looked away. “I have things I need to get done.” Uncrossing her legs, she nearly sprang off the couch. “See you guys later. Thanks for the pizza. It was nice to meet you, Duncan. I do hope you’ll stay a while.”
He stood. “I did no’ mean t’ offend you…”
“Oh, you didn’t. I love discussing music, whether we agree or not. Another time?”
He nodded and she left the apartment.
Evan followed. He should have been able to think of an answer since she’d been asking him for one. But he honestly didn’t understand why it bothered her so much. “Suse…”
She stopped in between her door and his, barely turning to wait for him to speak.
“You know Stu was just trying to get to you. What did you expect me to say?”
Her head raised, eyes touching his. “Do you think of me as a little sister? As a child?” Her voice was soft, reaching into his soul.
No, not anything like a sister. He could never think of her that way.
“Evan?”
“No, Angel. I have never thought of you as a sister. And I have not thought of you as a child for quite some time.”
“Then…”
“You’re my best friend. You always have been.” He moved closer and took her hand. “You always will be.”
She was silent for a long while, waiting. For what, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was time to tell her…
“You promise?”
Maybe not. Maybe all she wanted was his reassurance that no one else would take her place. Was she afraid that as much as he talked about wanting Duncan here, that he wouldn’t spend as much time with her, or would need her less? He couldn’t possibly ever need her less, or more.
He took a deep breath. “I promise that no one will ever come between us. No one will ever matter more to me than you do.”
She held him.
Her head lay against his shoulder, low enough for her forehead to lightly brush his jaw. A soft floral scent combined with her own, and the warmth in her hands penetrated his shirt right through to his skin, her arms around him too natural not to belong there. Even when they dated other people, there was never anything permanent in their separate relationships. She would see eventually that she belonged to him.
Too soon, she moved away. “I do need to get some things done. Can I ride in with you tomorrow?”
Her question didn’t surprise him. Any time they had any kind of friction, she spent the next day or two staying closer than usual, as though she honestly thought she might lose him. There was no chance of that. “Of course. But I thought I’d offer Duncan the job I’ve been holding at the gym, so he may be going in with me, too. If you don’t mind?”
“You know I don’t mind.” She finally looked up at him. “Do you think he’s going to stay?”
Evan shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m going to try.”
“And not just for the band.”
“No. Even if he’s not interested in the band.”
“So did I pass his test?” Her eyes sparkled.
“I would guess so. And don’t take it personally. He actually talked more to you than he does to most people until he gets to know them.”
“Well, I hope he’ll like it here so you can hang out with him again.”
Evan watched her try to act like it didn’t matter to her, other than for his sake. He didn’t think it was quite true. “Is Kate home?”
“Not that I know of.” She turned to unlock her door.
“Then I’ll walk you in.”
He waited until her lights were on and touched her back, loving that she was wearing his shirt. His own act came when she “borrowed” anything that belonged to him. He had to try to pretend it mattered, at least somewhat, though he supposed that wasn’t well hidden, either. She could borrow anything he had and keep whatever she wanted. He imagined she knew that by now.
Outside her closed door, he stood. In time. He had to wait. She was only nineteen and not ready for all he wanted to offer. Not to mention that he couldn’t support her the way he wanted … yet.
**
Susie slid out of her shoes and went to her cassette holder, picking up another she’d borrowed from Stu. It was funny how Duncan stayed quiet until she brought up Eric Clapton. She knew that’s what got his attention by the way his eyes snapped to hers. He was likely a fan. She really couldn’t call herself one, though she liked him okay. But Jim Croce, Carly Simon, and Elton John were more her style. She wondered how he felt about them. Maybe she would ask, when she got enough nerve.
She did really like Lovin’ You though.
Pulling the cassette from its case, she broke the silence of her apartment by clicking open the door of her stereo/cassette player. It was at the beginning of side one, where she always left them, so she slid the tape in with side two facing her and hit rewind. Sitting in front of the machine, she watched the thin, brown tape move from one side to the other. It made an eerie hushing sound. She closed her eyes and listened for it to be close to where she wanted it to stop. After the hours she had spent sitting in front of her stereo, rewinding or fast forwarding, she pretty well knew by the pitch how close it was to the beginning or end. A crazy trick to teach herself, she supposed, but it was music-related, in a way. Or maybe just a distraction to keep her mind off other things in the silence.
She checked the progress. Deciding it should be in about the right spot, she stopped the spinning and pushed play. Bottle of Red Wine was ending. Close enough; she would wait and let it finish.
At least he had admitted he didn’t think of her as a sister. That was something. Not much, but something. She felt his hand on her back. As the last strains faded, it was replaced by the feel of his buddy holding her hand, looking at her as though the world would stop if she weren’t there. Susie admonished herself. She was imagining things. But his eyes … and the way he held her … even if it had only been her hand…
The music pulled her back again. Maybe Duncan was a Clapton fan, but Lovin’ You Lovin’ Me was Evan’s song. He sang it at nearly every gig they had, and she’d been the one to request that he learn it.
She didn’t sing along this time, as she often did. Instead, she let the music, and the words, invade her senses and saw Evan on stage, singing to her. Why couldn’t he see her as anything more than a friend, even a best friend? She wasn’t a child any longer. Her mom had been married by her age. Of course, she wasn’t ready for that, but she was ready for something … real. And she wanted it with Evan.
She closed her eyes and let the song finish, then clicked it off, hit fast forward to leave it at the beginning and pulled it from the stereo. A noise at the door broke the spell and she turned to see her roommate come in. Not alone.
“Hey Suse, this is Kirk, the lead in our play. Are we interrupting, or would you mind if we went over some lines here?”
Susie pushed to her feet. The guy let his eyes roam her frame. “No, it’s okay. I’ll take my work back to my room.”
The guy smirked. “She could stay out here and read with us. I have the perfect part for her.”
She glanced at Kate, who didn’t seem to notice the tone of his voice, or didn’t care. “Thanks, but I really need to get this stuff done. I want to have Mike look at it tomorrow.” That was a lie, but she wanted Kate to know she disapproved.
Her roommate pulled her chin higher. “That’s okay. You stay out here. We can go to my room.”
Susie watched Kirk obediently follow. Kirk. Right. It was probably Bob, or Frank, and he was trying to make himself sound more theatrical. Everyone Kate brought home was so fake it was ridiculous. Why she would want a guy like that instead of Mike was beyond her. So, Mike could be a bit of a snob, but underneath, he was a great guy. And he would likely be in a better mood more often if Kate would stop messing with him and just say yes or no.
But then, who was she to criticize? She couldn’t even tell her best friend how she really felt about him. The rejection would be more than she wanted to face, and then what? At least this way, she could keep hoping.
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