"Share Your Darlings" Blogfest . . .

There's a follow-up at end of this snippet in reference to publisher rejection for this specific novel. It may help you to avoid the same pitfall I dropped into without realising I had.


The lovely Michelle Gregory hosted this blogfest so please check out her url below to read other author offerings to the "Share Your Darlings" blogfest.

http://michellegregory.blogspot.com/

Brief:  
Ricky Lindon, engaged to Tara Portland, never for one moment thought Tara would be passing a particular New York restaurant and would see him (apparently) kissing another woman. She did, though, and ran and kept running, then eighteen-months later he sees her and cannot get to her: you'll see why! This snip taken from opening chapter to category romance novel: just completed

Island of Ste Marguerite, Cannes, France: late April.



Tethered to the mainmast of a sailing ship and fifty lashes of the whip supposedly raining down on his back, Ricky Lindon sensed something or someone on the quayside. It was just a flash in his peripheral vision.

He inclined his head to see what had caught his eye.

Yee gods.

An exquisite apparition had come to brighten his day. Well, not as such, but certainly a vision of beauty.

What with a damn cloud as black as night overhead and looking like it intended business, the director suddenly yelled, ‘Cut,’ threw down his copy of the day’s script in gesture of utter frustration, and furthered with snide comment: ‘The effing script Lindon, read it, you might get an idea of what I want from you today.’

‘And if I’d sneezed?’ quizzed Rick, thinking the ruddy director a pompous twit at times.

The director turned and stormed off, shouted, ‘Take a break everyone, and when Don Juan is ready to continue, perhaps he’ll be good enough to let me know.’

Ricky glanced over his shoulder to fellow actors. ‘What in hell is his problem?’

His co-star shrugged his shoulders, the flogging master did the sign of the cross with his fingers, and the camera crew busy scrambling to cover their kit with rain covers sniggering like idiots.

The creamy vision all the while remained on the quayside taking in the scene of irate director and entourage scurrying along behind him.

So what if Ricky Lindon was meant to look as though suffering the pain and humiliation of fifty lashes. Hell, he’d only turned his head slightly. And sure, his concentration of looking pained had lapsed into a broad grin. So what.

Damn it all, he couldn’t believe a woman like that was there alone without a man of some sort hanging out with her. She was gorgeous despite face half shadowed by wide-brimmed hat, her reflective shades purposefully fixated on his half naked body implying overt interest in what he had to offer.

If it hadn’t been for her stance of come and get me if you dare, he wouldn’t have grinned and caused the director to throw a tantrum. Seeing as he was already in the proverbial what the hell, he swung his head back round to get a better look at long slender legs and slim shapely hips.

Well if this wasn’t his lucky day.

A sudden offshore breeze whipped at her dress dragging it up her thigh, and the casual way in which she caught the brim of her hat to prevent it blowing away caused his heart to blip: several times.

He panned his eyes back to her face, the sensual sexuality of a smile bestowed upon him utterly breathtaking, not to say stimulating in a maddeningly frustrating way.

Overhead the gunmetal grey cloud stretching far distant suddenly shimmied past the sun like the gods were smiling down on him. And, lit from behind her figure turned to silhouette. A stunning figure it was too.

Something about her was damn familiar, but it couldn’t . . . couldn’t be Tara.

There it was again,  that come get me smile. It had to be her. No two women were that alike except identical twins, and Tara didn’t have a sister let alone a twin.

The fabulous vision suddenly turned about and strolled away.

He watched the gentle sway of her hips, relished the spectacle of long legs and trim ankles. She was barefoot and brazen, yet her poise sensual serene, and the way she pulled her hat from her head and shook long blonde locks loose set his pulse racing.

Was it Tara? Dare he shout out her name?

He’d look a right tosser if wrong in his thinking.

He had to know, one way or the other.

He turned to one of the sound technicians, asked, ‘Hey Ron, do you know who that young lady is?’

Ron glanced over the rim of his specs in her direction, replied, ‘Yeah, she’s with the guy who bankrolled the movie. Don’t know her name, though.’

‘What, the old guy?’

Hell, he sounded like he was well choked.

Damn it, he was choked. His heart dived. He was still lashed to the mast and not one of the bastards standing around taking a blind bit of notice of that fact, otherwise he could have legged it after her.

He noticed a man with a clipboard step toward her in a rather officious manner. Her instant gesture of throwing her arms in the air suggested she didn’t have a pass and had no right on set. And she looked like she didn’t give a monkey as though she owned the place, and that was just how Tara would have responded to a jumped up jerk.

Great, how in hell was he supposed to get near her if she was shacked up with Darrell Easterly the shipping billionaire?

The man had bodyguards galore, probably ex special-forces soldiers with sniper credentials to die for: literally.

Ricky Lindon, heartthrob movie star once upon a time engaged to Tara Portland, had suddenly found himself thrown out of her apartment block merely because he’d been spied kissing some girl in a restaurant. It was a kiss that had meant nothing to him, and bestowed in mere gratitude by his agent’s assistant. Trying to explain that to Tara had gotten him a slap to face, door slammed in his kisser and added indignity of an armed security guard hauling him into a lift before bundling him out and onto the street. Tara had then vanished within days, and now she’d popped up with billionaire shipping magnate in tow.

There was unfinished business between Ricky Lindon and Tara Portland, and the apparition on the quayside had given him the big come get me if you dare.

No way could Ricky Lindon walk away from that kind of a challenge.

------------------

Add on:

I don't mind posting rejections to subs and why they occurred - such can help others to avoid the same mistakes!!

This followed standard rejection line of not for us: quote:

"However, I don't feel this manuscript hits the right note for *******. The narrative needs to be sophisticated and serious, and that requirement more or less precludes romantic comedy, which this ms has leanings towards. The writing is florid (i.e. ' class oozed out of her like top whack champagne sizzling and brimming a cut-glass flute') and this kind of knockabout prose, while great fun and perfect for a particular type of rom com, is not what we're looking for at *******.

In general, we are looking for a greater attempt at realism in the narrative and in dialogue, as well as characters with which typical romance readers can identify, something I don't feel you've achieved here. It's also hard to create a sensual or sexual atmosphere between characters whose interior monologues are as jokey as yours, and we are looking specifically for sexy mss"

---
Fair enough, I expect the ed was just being nice about something she thought of as utter crap!
OK, so you've read the snippet, now read the sentence in context as referred to by the editor (top wack champagne):


When he’d first met Tara she hadn’t fallen at his feet like other young women, and he’d loved the way class oozed out of her like top wack champagne sizzling and brimming a cut-glass flute. And, element of mystery about her, too.

Smitten and intrigued he’d tried digging into her past, and she’d evaded his every question by changing the subject. He couldn’t imagine she’d had anything to hide, but there was something and it was a big deal by the way she’d gone off at him for pressing on the subject of parents. Afterwards he’d avoided prying into her life beyond that of every day acquaintance.

So, where does romance end and suddenly become chick-lit or rom com?

These two bloggers have some great chat going on too:

Karen G

Talli Roland

Male Blond Fest.

Reading a lot of HM&B novels one can see that blond heroes get a rough deal in the HM&B hero stakes. So, I thought I'd have a blond fest of oldies and newbies to the blond movie star stakes, and perhaps some of you out there might look kindly on having a blond hero in your Modern Heat etc.

Take a moment to study these newer faces that have hit the big screen and TV channels on a regular basis. What if anything do you like about a specific face and the individual's attractive qualities. Could you see them as inspiration for a hero in one of your novels?
















































Let's face it some of these older faces have drawn sighs, ahhhs and "oh god he's simply delicious" like statements.



So, what's wrong in having a blond hero?















I've omitted Sean Bean from the oldie listing (can be seen below in previous historical related post)because I'll probably be accused of obsessing over him!!!


Post your thoughts and let's find out if blond males are out of fashion!

New Project whilst waiting on Submission Replies.

Due to a comment I've since added fun-time movie female heroine (Nicole Kidman)alongside the hero (Jude Law) and George Clooney whom I think could pass himself off as the shipping magnate.

I mentioned previously about researching jewels for another historical novel, but meantime characters from a comtemporary theme appeared in a dream and just had to take precedence. Hence I've embarked on their story first, which involves a stunningly good-looking hero movie star,










a billionaire shipping magnate, and a glamorous heroine who incites male lust without even trying.




The plot incorporates love, betrayal, emotional and physical scarring, and love regained despite odds stacked against such happening.













I blame this image of steps leading down to secluded cove for inspiring the present WIP. It embodies the essence of what happens and why the hero turns to this place in his time of need. Needless to say there is a very sad underlying element to the story, but the end makes up for all the heartache suffered by hero and heroine alike.










This is a side view of the property owned by the stunningly good-looking hero, who, for reasons I cannot reveal feels need to hideaway from the world mid-novel and in doing so becomes a mystery stalker!!! The steps in the first image (above)are to the left of this image.











Imagine lush tropical island, and living in this gorgeous villa. Well you can't, it belongs to a billionaire shipping magnate, who sought a special person to take control of his life, found her, and whisked her away to his island retreat, though I can't say why he needs her! It would reveal too much of the plot.









Stunnng view isn't it? Lucky Billionaire and heroine look out on it every day for months, and then an old love of hers unexpectedly walks centre stage! Hee hee, love never runs smooth.









I really love this yacht because it's a perfect replica of the yacht, which is featured often within the novel. It of course belongs to the billionaire shipping magnate who has designs on the heroine, not least in a sexual manner. Speaks for itself, it's a bird-pulling magnate: the yacht!








Just for historical interest, this is the fort where the real "Man in the Iron Mask" was kept captive, his identity never revealed. It does feature in the novel but is not a main prop.

Romance Writing & Research!

Seeing as a few people have posted comments in reference to research etc., not on the research post but on the historical snippet post, I thought it might be a good idea to clarify a few things and obtain the point of view of other writers!

Taking the title "Romance Writing & Research" one is forced to ask is it necessary?

Well, according to Bernard Cornwell, the bestselling author of the "Sharpe" character, yes, research is vital!
http://www.bernardcornwell.net/



I can vouch for Cornwell's honesty in this, for my husband's father was at one time West of England Champion Archer and at present owns the largest private collection of historical Long Bows in the UK.




Bernard Cornwell used Hugh's expertise in his research for a historical novel entailing archery, and wrote a forward for Hugh's History of the Long Bow!




















http://www.amazon.com/s?ie=UTF8&rh=i%3Astripbooks%2Cp_27%3AHugh+D.+H.+Soar&field-author=Hugh+D.+H.+Soar&page=1
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This writer talking on research: http://www.caroclarke.com/historicalfiction.html
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This too, interesting.

Whether your novel is set in the 1890s or 1990s, it is important to know everything you can about the time period and the location. If you use a real place for your setting, or base a fictional town on a real one, you need to know the layout of the area, and detailed information about the people and places found there. If time and money permits, it is best to visit the location. If not, travel guides, street maps and tourist bureaus can be invaluable resources. The Weather Channel can give you information on the climate. Daily newspapers are excellent for getting a feel for the people and their interests, as well as speech patterns, popular names and local events

Read more at Suite101: Researching Your Novel
http://www.suite101.com/article.cfm/novel_writing/12104

Historical Novel & Research!

This is the image that inspired the writing of my historical novel set within the period of English Civil War. Why I thought of them as Father and Son fighting on opposing sides I'll never know, but the resulting characters that appeared in a dream said that's what they were: father and son.



English Civil War (1642-1649)

For this historical novel it became necessary to establish when velvet, satin and silk (brocades) became readily available within Europe and England. In particular, I needed to know what cloth lesser gentry than that of Kings/Queens and courtiers were wearing during this period. How else could I be sure a titled lady of relative modest means would be wearing appropriate apparel despite generosity of titled and wealthy benefactor. After all, in times of war international and local trade is often disrupted.





I discovered the more “exotic/lush” fabrics during that period came from Italy and France. Hence control of the Garrison and Port of Bristol was paramount for the Royalists and constantly fought over by both Parliamentarians’ and Royalists’ alike, because London for the most part was under Parliamentarian control and so too neighbouring ports.

I discovered too, that although movies about this particular period often portray Parliamentarian women as dowdy and prone to wearing Puritan style clothes this was not wholly true. It was only true of the Puritan Brethren. Meantime Parliamentarian women married to Lords and of lesser gentry wore beautiful outfits made up of silk damasks and brocades etc. For true enough, gentry and lesser gentry fought on both sides of the divide, because not only was the country split in to two camps, so too families were torn apart by divided loyalties to Parliament or the Royalist fraternity.




My next research project entailed the aspect of food and drink consumed within this period, and some of it was little different than today ie; pan cooked bacon, eggs, potato-cakes and bread for breakfast, and such eaten by most of the country folk at that time even estate workers whom had back yard pigs and poultry and poached game. Meat and vegetables, dumplings etc., were served up for more substantial meals, and puddings and fruit fancies were common with steamed/baked cakes for gentry and lesser gentry! Wine and Ale was partaken of with almost any meal and consumed any time of the day, but alas, Tea and Chocolate in any sense of the word “available” arrived much later than the time I set my novel. But, tobacco and card playing was part and parcel of men’s lives at that time.



I knew it was common for the gentry and the better educated in society to write letters but what I needed to know was how they were delivered? For the most part, apparently, by private messenger, say a stable lad or some such member of household staff. But, luckily for me, in 1635 Thomas Withering became Charles Is Postmaster and started a “package post” between London and all parts of His Majesty's dominions, and purposefully designed for the carrying and re-carrying of his subjects' letters" and many of the routes chosen were those routes used by Elizabeth Is army.

During the Civil War, the most famous Royalist messenger was James Hicks, a Post Office employee, who passed through the Parliamentarian lines many times but was never caught.

Both the Royalist and Parliamentarians used messengers to carry their mail. And, to gather military intelligence the “Parliamentarians” created a "Secret Office" within the Post Office, which was responsible for intercepting mail and reading its contents: similar to that of Queen Elizabeth Is Secret Counter Intelligence Service!


Extra research for return, perhaps, to this period:
In 1660 (post Civil War) Colonel Sir Henry Bishop was appointed General Postmaster. He’d served as a Royalist officer during the Civil War and was given the "farming" patent of the Post Office as a reward. He instigated the use of a metal stamp, which was "put upon every letter” showing the day of the month that every letter came to the office, so that no Letter Carrier might dare detain a letter from post to post. These impressions were known as "Bishop Marks", and the first of their kind anywhere in the world and were the forerunner of today’s cancellation marks.

Researching this period in depth was most rewarding, despite previous love of history in general. How much then does research have a part to play in your writing career, whether writing hitsorical/contemporary, or whatever?