Good morning! Please welcome guest author Jane Leopold Quinn. Though I will be away for most of the day, please feel free to leave comments for Jane and I will post them as soon as I return. Thank you!
~Kate
WRITING IS HARD!
Why is writing fiction so hard?
Why is writing romance so hard?
Why is writing erotic romance so hard?
I don’t know except maybe anything that’s creative should be hard. I don’t want to live in a garret. I don’t want to be a “starving artist.” But I’d like to have somewhat less angst about my writing. Even after several years, I still feel unsure about a finished project. While I’m working on it, I’m constantly revising, changing sentence structure, varying the first word of the sentences, putting in commas, taking them out.
I write erotic romance and have from the minute I first put pen to paper because that’s how I wrote in the beginning. Others write hotter, others write more PG so I’m kind of in the middle. Then the question becomes is it hot enough for the hot lovers? Do readers consider the love scenes ordinary which isn’t my intention at all? I can spend hours on one or two paragraphs in love scenes to get the wording, movements and most importantly the emotion right. Even after years, it doesn’t get any easier.
Critics say it’s putting “slot A into slot B”. It’s not! At least it’s not if you write it properly. The slots are the least important component. They’re important but the road to the slots is what’s lastingly memorable. The road is what makes the reader forget her living room, her bus or train ride, what she’s eating for lunch because the scene she’s living through her reading is so powerful. Words matter, phrases matter. Putting them together so they flow and make the reader close her eyes and sigh in pleasure is what matters.
And I’ll admit that sometimes I get tired of writing a hot love scene. That’s a bit discouraging because I consider myself a writer of good hot love scenes but sometimes you just have to change your focus to a good murder or shoot out or just a simple walk down the street with your characters so they can get to know each other better through conversation.
I guess writing is hard because we’re constantly challenging ourselves to be better, to go the extra mile to give a scene even more of a lasting impression on the reader. I know I’ve done a good job when the scene turns me on. I also know I’ve done a good job if I make myself cry because I’ve written an effective scene for my character. Thirty years of being a secretary and I don’t need to look at the keyboard most of the time. So when I’m deep into a scene, I close my eyes, sway in my desk chair and type.
A dozen books – novels, novellas, short stories – later and I’m here to offer some information about my latest release – my first Ellora’s Cave and hopefully not the last EC release. A few years ago, I became enamored with writing a small town series. Readers seem to love them – wish I’d realized that years ago. Lesson to new writers: consider series books!
I created the town, Birchwood Falls, and even made a drawing of the town which I use as part of my “bible” so I know where the heck my characters are at any given moment. I brainstormed at least three initial sets of characters and storylines. Then, of course, I set it aside for other projects until the idea beat me about the head again forcing me to pay attention. Here’s a photo of my Birchwood Falls map. I just hope I’m a better writer than I am an artist.
The first book of the series is Lost and Found. Hunky Marine Marc Rahn enlisted after his high school graduation to escape the pain of his parents’ fatal car wreck. Now on leave after eight years and multiple Middle East deployments, he returns to his small hometown to put to rest his suspicions that the “accident” might actually have been anything but.
What he doesn’t expect is an intriguing flash of a pierced nipple from a new neighbor on move-in day. The breast’s owner, Phoebe Barnes, is a beautiful young jazz singer who plans to make it big in the music business. Her early years in foster care made her hungry for attention and fame, and she’s out to achieve both at almost any cost.
Despite their differing paths, Marc and Phoebe quickly give in to the sizzling attraction between them. But will their passion turn deadly when the person who killed Marc’s family decides two murders might not have been enough?
Here’s a “cute meet” with a tad bit of spiciness.
Unhhh, what’s that? Phoebe cranked open one eye to check the time. Nine twenty-two. Shit. She’d wanted to sleep until at least ten. Nine twenty-two wasn’t really too early but still—
Rolling off the bed, she slowly trekked to the front room of her small house and peeked out the picture window to see what the ruckus was about. Someone was moving into the bungalow across the street. Finally. The house had been empty for quite a while and was too cute not to have a family living there.
A big man at the back of a truck directed movers into the house. It was a small truck so there wasn’t all that much furniture. An iron bedframe balanced against a tire while the man bent over, his gray t-shirt riding up exposing a muscular back and giving her a peek at a gorgeous ass in snug jeans. He and another man in work clothes hoisted a black leather couch into the air and marched it up the porch steps and through the door.
She put out a hand to balance against the window frame, too curious now to go back to bed. When the man bounded back down the porch steps, his gaze riveted on hers.
His face with its hard features, strong chin and dark shadow of a beard tugged at her heart. Short black hair stuck up over his forehead, which would have made him look boyish if he hadn’t been filling out that t-shirt and jeans so well. She saw all this clearly. The street was only two lanes wide. Did this small amount of furniture mean the fascinating-looking man didn’t have a wife and family? Not that it would make any difference to her.
He lifted a hand to shade his eyes, a big grin splitting his face.
She shivered. The arm holding her up shook. “Oh my God!” Slamming back to the side of the window, she pressed both palms against the wall’s rough plaster.
Naked! She’d just shot him full-frontal nudity. She’d been so engrossed in the sight of him she’d completely forgotten her own bare-assedness. Oh shit! He’ll either never speak to me or he’ll be over here in five minutes.
How the hell was she going to get back to the protection of the bedroom? Her tiny house offered a clear view from the front window all the way through to the back. Afraid to peek around the curtain to see if he was still watching, she realized how cold she was. Her nipples—with a little gold ring piercing one tip—stood out like ripe, hard raspberries. Of course it was the chilly temperature and not her immediate attraction to the man’s jeans. And chest. And flat belly…
Okay. Pull yourself together. Just sprint to the bedroom. He’s probably not looking any longer. Just go!
She flew through the bedroom door, threw herself onto the rumpled bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. A fine time to be embarrassed by her nudity but she liked to pick the time and place to grace a man with her body.
And welcoming a new neighbor with a buck-naked flash wasn’t quite the same as taking over a plate of cookies or a tuna casserole.
Then it hit her again. She had just flashed the new neighbor. Laughter pealed out in a rush. Jesus. What a nutcase. Well it probably wasn’t the first naked woman he’d ever seen. Unless maybe he was gay?
Crap! What a waste that would be.
* * * * *
“Well I’ll be damned.”
“Did you say something, Mr. Rahn?”
His balls had instantly drawn up into the hot shelter of his groin, his cock swelling in interest. Swallowing heavily the last spit in his mouth, he stood transfixed.
He would have to have perfect long-distance eyesight.
He reluctantly turned from the view of the picture window back to the mover. “Um, no. Nothing important.” Luckily the guy hadn’t noticed the show. Was this an example of the neighborhood’s welcome wagon? Not a bad idea. It’s better than a casserole.
But right now his job was to move in. Being distracted was not in the plan but his brain remembered very well the slender figure with long, dark hair on her head and a nice dark bush at the juncture of her thighs. Because he was a man, his eyes had alternated between pubic hair and breasts. There might have been a pretty, delicate face too. He thought so. And he was pretty sure he saw an intriguing bright flash on her chest.
Damn hot!
He sighed. She’d disappeared from the window. Time to get back to work. Furniture didn’t move itself.
Bio
Jane Leopold Quinn is a multi-published, erotic romance author of M/F, M/M, and ménage (M/F/M). She’s written in contemporary, Western historical, fairy tale, and time travel. Her imagination was always fertile but became public when she began writing hot romance over a decade ago.
Her main interest is writing, but creativity in authors isn’t usually limited to writing. Other interests include building and decorating doll houses and miniature room boxes, as well as designing silk flower arrangements. She’d love to paint, but even her stick figures are unrecognizable. Alas—can’t do everything. Of course, her characters can.
And check out my blog to find out about my smokin’ hot indie releases – http://janeleopoldquinn.blogspot.com
My Romance: Love With a Scorching Sensuality
Website ~ Twitter ~ My Blog ~ Exquisite Quills! Blog
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Thanks Kate for having me today. As Kate says, I’ll also be out much of the day. We have to trek out to the suburbs of Chicago for a lunch with my hubby’s boss and the “team.” The weather is crappy after a gorgeous weekend so we don’t mind taking two buses to the train station to the burbs and reversing the process after lunch. 😉 Thank you to any who comment! I’ll see them when I return.
Jane, you always write with lots of story and emotion. We all know where the body parts go, so it’s a matter of feelings. You do very well in getting that across. You are one of the few erotic writers that I will read.
Congrats on this new release!
Thank you for being here, Jane!
You’re so right, Jane. It’s much more that slot A etc. I love the stories you weave and the fire between the pages. Best luck with your newest. 🙂
Thank you, E., for your comments and support. And thank you, Kate, for having me today.
Writing is hard. I want the words to be perfect on the page too. I get frustrated when it doesn’t happen so I have to take a step back and remember that I’m a good writer. 🙂 You are too!
I hope you had a good lunch in Chicago… at least worth the trip! I wish you all the best!
Jane, enjoyed your blog. Your series will be a must read based on the first story. Loving your characters. Looking forward to more!
Thank you Melissa and Jeanmarie for your comments. I knew that other writers had to be as exacting as I am. It’s good to have that confirmed. 😉