I'm Strange

But you knew that. I just finished reading an inspirational romance, and...meh. Seriously. I know the author, and I've liked other stuff she's written, but this was vanilla.

I don't like vanilla unless it has chocolate and sprinkles on it.

I tried to put my finger on it. Characters were drawn about as well as any can be in category length. Plot was fine. A few things weren't neatly drawn up at the end, which I kind of like. Not all problems should be solved. But a romance is, first and foremost, about the relationship of the hero and heroine, and this...just didn't cut it.

It wasn't just the absence of sex. I've read plenty of no-nookie stories that had heat. (And why can't we find a word for these romances? Sweet brings syrupy and childish to mind. Clean seems to accuse the others of being dirty. What do we call them?) I guess heat has become synonymous with sex, but I've never really suffered the loss if there's no bouncy-bouncy in the book. But I need there to be an intensity, where all the nerve endings stand at attention. I want to see the characters captured.

When they look at each other, I want to catch my breath with them. My breathing was not impeded at all with this story. There were a few good moments, such when he pinned her with his unblinking stare and declared that he'd get the truth out of her. Gad I love those stare scenes. I want to squirm right along with the heroine.

But when the relationship deepened, it got boring. And fast- too fast. Without that intensity- whether or not it leads to the bedroom- it's just boring. Get married, don't. I don't care.

Inspys have done this to me several times, and it just makes me furious. There are ways to show a captivating romance minus tea and crumpets if you do it right. Sticking in a few prayers and a church service doesn't make up for it, either. Gimme more.

I Put On Heels For This?

From my post at Enduring Romance:

Yes, I'm double-posting. It's my blog and I'll plagiarize if I want to.

I don’t have a review up because I made a big mistake- I bought this book, loved the blurb, loved the first few pages, and loved the ending. Yes, I peeked. Sue me. So I thought it would be perfect to review today.

Except, the book was ultimately a disappointment. Not exactly a wall-chucker, but a frustrating near miss. I won’t go into detail, because it’s just unique enough that you would recognize it and I don’t want to slam anyone. I will tell you that it is a historical, with one of my favorite plots. I must marry Bachelor #1, but I love Bachelor #2…or do I?

The characters were engaging and different, and the storyline was interesting, but it fell where I find most historicals go plop. The, you know, intimate scenes. Tea and crumpets. Regency hula.

If the characters are married, and learning to love each other while consummating, fine. Love it. Got no problem with it. Even if our heroine is a widow who knows very well what she’s about, I can at least understand that. But a virginal young miss who knows very well that her reputation is truly all she has? You just lost me.

Historical writers have to walk a fine line- you have to do enough research to make it believable, but there will always be some reader screeching that those kind of wine glasses weren’t used until 20 years later, moron! I understand the frustrations of appealing to modern readers while staying true to history, but this one thing I can’t swallow.

How, precisely, does a typical sheltered young girl, who has been protected from the exact details of sex, who has probably at some point been told to “lie back and think of England,” decide that hiking up her skirt OUTSIDE ON THE GRASS is perfectly fine? I can accept that said young miss got carried away, and can straighten her dress with nary a stain and go back to the house unseen. What I can’t accept is that, without benefit of marriage or instruction beyond a gossiping servant, is that she can on second tryst become a skilled and enthusiastic…er, performer of certain type of crumpet-making, if you catch my drift.

I can't make the leap that a girl not known for flaunting herself or fighting authority can suddenly be not just okay with that kind of intimacy but actively pursue it. Turned a really, really good story into a disappointment. Sort of like dressing up for dinner with your husband to find out he's taking you to Cracker Barrel.

Lemme Ask You Something...

Does first person do it for you? In romance, I mean. I just posted my review of Michele Lang's NETHERWOOD over at Enduring Romance (link on sidebar, awesome book BTW) and I believe I made some snarky comment about how reading first person POV in love scenes made me feel like I was trapped in a booth at Denny's with the other girls from the office who were totally oversharing.

I don't know why, but third person interests me. First person embarrasses me. I guess I'm okay with spying on you, just don't call me and tell me about it, 'kay?

I tend not to like first person all that much anyway, so maybe it's just an extension of that particular prejudice. I like to be in as many heads as the story has; the whole Nora Roberts head-hopping thing has never bothered me. But I have read some first person stories that were done really well. I just don't like the bouncy-bouncy with "I shivered as he stroked my protuberances."

What say you?

Starship Troopers

I love a good space opera. From Star Trek to Serenity, I've always loved reading, and watching, stories set in the stars. Even though there will be butt-ugly aliens, political intrigue, daring escapes and swoony romance, these stories always seem to be about one thing: the human condition.

Things in space don't seem to be that different from things here on Earth, except that Earthlings are universally reviled. We're weak, young, arrogant, carbon-based bags of water that are far beneath the notice of superior species- but those species wrestle with the same things we do.

One thing I always appreciated about Star Trek: it was hopeful. We didn't push the button; we didn't drop the bomb. And I personally love the fact that network honchos were worried about the original Trek's diversity, but the public didn't march in protest as was feared. We all loved the crew, even the Russian. I hate that female writers like Dorothy Fontana had to use her initials, D.C., to get scripts to air, but at least she still got to write.

And of course, there are plenty of stories that have nothing whatsoever to do with Earth- but they still have our challenges. Vonda McIntire is a personal fave of mine; who do you like to read (or watch) when you feel planet-bound?

Have You Noticed?

It seems wherever I go, I'll find a book rack, and there will be some romances on it. Gas stations, grocery stores, hotel lobbies, you name it. I've started to see romance everywhere.

Brick and mortar stores have HUGE sections of romance, of course, but have you seen WalMart lately? The ones here have a big, big selection- from HQ categories to single title. I like to think it's because the worse the world seems, the more you need Happy Ever After.

What do you think? Is there any one reason for the profusion of romances?

Authors Behaving Criminally

ABC news had this story yesterday morning. It concerns a young 21-year-old woman, Alex Firestone, who has basically had to be mom for her 5 siblings, one of them autistic, for the last SEVEN YEARS. She did this because her mother went on a short trip, and never returned. Her mother also conveniently cleaned out the family's bank account before she left. Alex never heard from her mother again.

She took a chance on an internet search, knowing that her mom was a struggling author. She typed in the title of one of her mom's old stories, and there popped up a site for romance author Sandee McCann. New name, same picture. Her mom, now going by Sandee, had apparently struck up a friendship with some man in England, and moved in with him. She started a fairly successful career as a romance novelist under the new name.

Sandee McCann claims that the man she left, Alex's stepfather and the father of her other five children, was abusive and controlling, and she had no choice but to leave. She says that she tried multiple times to contact her children, but her ex blocked all her attempts to communicate.

Alex disputes that theory, saying that she had quit school to take care of her siblings and was home all day. She was the one who picked up the daily mail, and never once got a letter or card from Sandee.

Now that you're up to speed, here's my question: Many of those who left comments on the ABC website wanted everyone to boycott Sandee McCann's books. In fairness, I don't know any of these people. I know that abused spouses go through terrible soul-destroying madness, but I have serious doubts about Ms. McCann's claims. If her ex was abusive, why leave the kids in his care? If she was so isolated and cut off from any money, how could she strike up a friendship with a man she felt comfortable enough to move in with, and grab enough money to go to Europe? After becoming so successful, why not hire a lawyer to insist on her rights? Her ex and her kids are in poverty. She'd have had a chance.

I've always felt that how an author behaves shouldn't necessarily affect his/her sales; but I'll be honest. I've never bought, or read, Sandee McCann's books; after this, I'm not likely to. Do you think any author's personal life should be a deciding factor for a buyer? Or are there levels? An author getting snotty on a blog is one thing- this? For me, at least, it's quite another.

Gad, We're Hard To Please

I read a review of Jayne Ann Krentz’s new one under her Jayne Castle name, Dark Light. This is on my TBR list, as are all of Ms. Krentz’s stories. The reviewer and many of her commenters stated that they liked her books in spite of the fact that they were all the same- the plot and characters do all have a striking similarity. But the stories are good enough that the familiar points are comforts rather than irritants.

I have to admit that’s the very reason I love her stuff; I pretty much know what I’m going to get, and her stories hold up after several reads. Does that say something bad about us as readers? We’re always whining that we want something new, new, new. More vampires! More vampires! Gimme, gimme, gimme! But, ew, now they’re all starting to bore me and –ooh! Look! A shiny new Regency!

We bleat about the death of originality. But then we turn around and reward sameness because it’s soothing.

What about you? Do you have comfort reads?

Now That I Think About It, I Don't

(Image from Funnyjunk.com)

I recently read a story in an anthology that had a very familiar trope- the heroine at the altar with the Wrong Man, about to pledge her life away, when the hero bursts in and stops it.

That scene has always bugged me. If she's marrying the villain to save said hero, or sacrificing herself for the good of her family, I can take it. If it's a marriage of convenience, so much the better. That's one of my favorite historical romance scenarios- it ALWAYS turns into a love match, even if she had mad warm feelings for someone else before exchanging rings.

But what I can't take is a modern woman who actually goes to all the trouble and expense of a wedding- even hastily thrown together affairs are a bother- when she knows she doesn't love this guy. She didn't have an ill-advised trip to Vegas. She wasn't doing Jello shots and woke up with a new hubby. She, with a clear mind and clear intent, bought a gown and flowers and sent invitations to her family and now stands there, ready to give her life to this man.

Because she's pregnant? No. Because she wants to build a home with him? No. Because he turns her on? Again, no. Because she loves him? Absolutely not.

It's because the man she really loves didn't step up to the plate. For whatever reason, he fell off the white horse and so she falls back on Plan B. Or Man B, if you will.

I can't stand this. It's insulting. I've known some women who were desperate to marry, but to intentionally defraud some poor slob so she can say, "I'm MRS. Lovelywife, and I have more to go home to now than my cat, so suck on it you single slimes?"

That's not a woman I want to know, not a heroine I want to root for. And I don't care if Man B didn't really love her, and was marrying for the wrong reasons as well. These stories always try to let the heroine off the hook that way. This girl was ready to take meaningful vows one second and, because her true flame came bursting through the door yelling "I object," the next second she dropped the poor schmuck she was going to love, honor, and cherish and rode off into the sunset with someone else.

Quite frankly, if I was Man A, I wouldn't trust that woman.

On another page entirely, anyone up for some fun? Writtenwyrdd is having a contest to celebrate her 2nd blogiversary. Hop on over.

If This Is Hollywood's Idea Of Hot I Need To Poke A Stick In My Eyes

So I decided to find out what the fuss is with the Twilight books by Stephenie Meyer. I'm about halfway through the first one and...I don't get it. Seriously, I don't get it.

Granted, I am not exactly in the target audience. Teen angst ceased to thrill me about ten years ago, and there's only so much she likes him and he asked her to the prom and did he kiss you OMG! OMG! I can take. The main character finding interesting ways to bend the truth around her dad so she can go out with the 'bad boy' while still getting A's on her math tests and term papers gave me hives. Probably because my own daughter is about this age, and it started to scare the crap out of me.



I think these books are termed YA, and aimed there, so I don't think I can fairly compare it to vamp romance novels. But having read my fair share in the past five years, I can't help but think I've seen this all before. And I have, in...almost every vamp romance novel I've read in the past five years. Just take them out of their 30's and shove them in high school, and viola! Megahit.



The book isn't bad, per se, but it isn't new. And I don't think the movie is going to help matters for me. To wit:





Good Grief. Okay, really? This is what passes for hot these days? Yes, I know that the vamp, Edward, is supposed to be pale but this dude would put a fish's belly in the Artic in the winter to shame. Or the current state of my legs, take your pick. Sexy, tousled hair is one thing; small animal got caught in it is another. And Edward's described as having dark circles under his eyes, but I don't think that comes from L'Oreal eyeliner. I want to know what shade his lipstick is, though. I've got a dress that would look great with it.

What gets me is that actor played Cedric Diggory in the Harry Potter movies, and he was all kinds of cute. They had to actually work to make him look this bad. Considering that Edward is misogynistic in the extreme, moody, borderline stalkerish and takes emo to the horrifying limit, he'd have to be waaaay hotter than that to make me swoon.

Kids today. What are you gonna do?

Books: Dead Or Undead?

My daughter went to the release party for the new Twilight book, Breaking Dawn, Friday night at Borders. She had a blast. There were total strangers bonding over character dissections, the overpriced iced coffee in the cafe, and whether or not they thought the movie would be any good.

There were also frenzied groupies screaming in the parking lot. "Oh My God, this is the best book EVAAAHHHH!"
"SECONDED!"
"WOOOOHOOOO!"

She and her best friend had so much fun, and have had their noses stuck in the pages all weekend. Which leads me to ask:

Is the printed page truly going the way of the dodo, as has often been prophesied? If it is, then how could a book warrant this kind of fangurl squeeing? Especially from the text message-OMG-LOL-will not capitalize my i's-generation, who supposedly have the attention span of a gnat?

I will admit I do not understand people who hate reading. I'm sure they have their reasons; one friend of mine said it was because she couldn't take just sitting there. She got anxious if she just sat for too long. Nevermind that she and I could have an Antonio Banderas marathon with no problem.

But if Twilight and the Harry Potter phenomenon and even the Left Behind series (they had to build a 2,500 square foot warehouse just for the release of the last book) are any indication, books aren't going anywhere soon. Maybe it's just with all the competition, they have to be better.

Now I Feel Stupid

I read a great book over vacay- an anthology called My Big Fat Supernatural Wedding, edited by P.N. Elrod.

I love anthologies, mostly because I love short stories, mostly because I have what my daughter calls ADOSD- Attention Deficit OOO! Shiny! Disorder. Seriously, though, I rarely have big chunks of uninterrupted reading time, and something in me just rebels at stopping before I've reached The End.

Among others, this book had a Sherrilyn Kenyon Dark-Hunter story, a Jim Butcher Dresden Files, and an Elrod short about an Elvis impersonator who's just a little too good. Hilarious. Susan Krinard has a Kit and Olivia adventure that I just loved. She's built an alternate universe Victorian England where magical talents, like land and titles of the peerage, are entailed among the aristocracy. Kit turns into a Black Dog, a big hound once known for being the harbinger of death. They are detectives after a fashion, and I'll definitely be seeking more of these out.

My favorite story was by an author I hadn't heard of before. The Wedding of Wylda Serene was an absolute joy. The first line set the tone perfectly: "It has been said that God makes marriages, but the Devil plans weddings." At first there's nothing supernatural about this, just some stuffy Harvard old money men planning a granddaughter's wedding at the club. The narrator goes to pick up the groom at the airport, and describes him thusly:

"The sight of him, bronzed and blond, with steel blue eyes, perfect teeth, and a profile purloined from Michelangelo's David, filled my heart with a nauseating swirl of personal inadequacy and overpowering envy. In that moment I knew that no ordinary human being could ever see Miles Martial so much as behold him. There is a difference, as vast as it subtle.
"I also knew, in quick succession, that 1. I wanted to punch him in the face, for no other reason than because it was there. 2. Every man at the club would share my feelings."

I'll let you read the rest, don't want to spoil it for you. After I finished, I thought who is this...*searches for author bio* Esther Friesner? Nobody. Just the author of thirty-one novels and more than one hundred and fifty short stories, published all over the world, and, oh yeah. A NEBULA AWARD WINNER. I'm so observant about this business, don't you think?

Anyway, pick it up for a happy rainy Saturday. It's well worth it!

Just Get To It Already

A discussion on character description at Romancing the Blog has me thinking about description in general.

I generally find it irritating.

I come from a theatre background, and I know the importance of a well-designed, well-dressed set. The audience can tell at one glance that they’re about to see something about the rich and famous, the used-to-be-rich, or adventures with Bubba and Billy Joe at the Dew Drop Inn.

I wonder if it’s that background that causes me to dislike excessive description. I’m used to seeing the set quickly, and getting right into the action. As beautiful as the house may be, I care more about the occupants.

Of course, a person’s house can say a lot about him or her. I certainly wouldn’t want to read, “The house was clean,” and that was it. But an immaculate house can mean one of two things: she just cleaned, knowing company was coming, or she’s an OCD clean freak. And that’s only going to come out in bits and pieces during the story, so why dump a bunch of visuals in one sitting?

I liked the movies well enough, but cannot read Tom Clancy without getting bored. He could take twenty pages to tell you about a paper clip. I just barely got through the beginning pages of Hardy’s Return of the Native- geez, that guy must have gotten paid for every gallon of ink he went through. The pastoral scenery was beautiful at first, but after awhile it’s just a hill, okay?

I think description works best when a place is seen through the eyes of a character, and everything comes through that filter. Depending on where we came from, what we’re used to, and what’s important to us, we’ll all have a different reaction to what we see. A poor man might be intimidated by the halls of a mansion; a new mother will spot potential baby-harming hazards; the aforementioned clean freak will notice any tiny bit of clutter. Which is why she’d never want to come to my house. *rimshot*

What about you? A tour guidebook or a snapshot?

The Family Way

Just finished re-reading some of Louis L'Amour's Sackett series. One thing I really admire about L'Amour: he can give you the flavor of down home speech without resorting to phonetic nightmare Hicksville. You'll find no character saying, "Wal, Ah figgered yew wuz out thar, cuz Ah smelt yer purty toilet water."

For those who aren't familiar with the Sacketts, they are a family of noble character, if not noble birth, in Tennessee. L'Amour has written about the first Sackett, in England in the 1700's (I think, don't have the book with me) coming to America, and most of the successive generations to the late 1800's. The main family traits are not backing away from any fight, following their honor code, and family loyalty. In the extreme. Any Sackett can call on another Sackett for help, even if the twice-removed cousins have never met. If you're family, you're taken care of.

I like family sagas; watching the generational ebb and flow. Romance is filled with them because families are guaranteed sequels. Any unattached siblings or cousins are automatic sequel fodder, especially if they proclaim they'll never marry. But they are also one area where romance tends to fall flat- when the couple who has been featured in a previous book appears, all is sunshine and light. I'm supposing no one wants to mess with the HEA, but I think an exploration of the happy couple after the wedding or the baby is interesting. I want to see how they're doing. I may want to be sure they'll make up after the fight, but I wouldn't mind witnessing the marital spat.

Lori Wick, a Christian inspirational writer, did a Western historical story where the heroine and hero married young and were separated. When they got back together, he was a Christian and she wasn't. But by the end of the book, the heroine hadn't changed her mind. I was sure we were going to get a salvation scene, but it never came and I was floored. The couple was referenced in another book, 20 years later. They were still happy together, but she was still unsaved. Very brave choice, and one I didn't see coming. I loved meeting the couple again; it certainly didn't ruin my enjoyment of the original tale.

What about you? Do you like reading about dynasties, royal or common?

My Carbon Footprint Is An Eight And A Half Wide

I think the Green movement is much like the Health movement; a lot of people talk about it but no one wants to do it. My family grew up recycling, using old things in new ways, composting, etc. My kids have been taught to save water when they brush their teeth and we are considering buying a hybrid car. But when I hear the current crop of zealots dissing me if I throw away a 3x5 card I have to fight the urge to tie the refrigerator door open and cackle maniacally.

Going Green is the hot new thing, but I’ve noticed I haven’t seen it in romances. Thank God. The minutiae of life is often glossed over in these stories- she did the dishes, he mowed the lawn- which is fine with me. I don’t think I could take a Mother Earth lecture while waiting for the first kiss.

Emma pushed away thoughts of Paul as she did her recycling, making sure that her paper, plastic, and aluminum were properly sorted. His handsome face had intruded on her mind so much that she forgot to turn off the water as she was washing her hands! Thank goodness her water heater was permanently set to 100 degrees, or she might even have taken more than a ten-minute shower!

A mention of Green, as long as it fit in the story, wouldn’t bother me. And if the hero is a carbon-emitting, SUV-driving, electricity waster and the heroine is a total Green guru who is horrified at her attraction to him, that would be okay too. I don’t normally mind if current sensibilities are adhered to; you rarely see any character in any book smoke, for example. You know I can’t stand reading about ripping open shiny foil packets in the middle of the action, but I would find it hysterical if the heroine woke up the morning after, noticed the three or four ripped shiny foil packets on the dresser, and smiled.

It isn’t the sentiment, it’s the PSA I can’t stand. I imagine the Green Mother will make her way into stories. If she wants to give me a gentle nudge, fine. But if she starts preaching, her book is getting hurled into the next landfill I can find.

Teacher, Teacher

Where did you learn about writing? We all learned the basics from school, of course, but I bet most of us couldn’t diagram a sentence today if our lives depended on it. Schoolhouse Rock was great for learning about subjects and predicates and fueling the romantic heart at a young age. “Mr. Morton was lonely…Mr. Morton was…”

I think I learned the most from reading. How wordsmiths put thoughts together; when I understood it, when I felt it, and when I didn’t. I always wrote stories, even if I kept them in my head, but I started seriously putting them on paper because I wasn’t finding exactly the kind of story I wanted to read.

When I decided to write romance, I hung around the Harlequin site. E-Harl was doing a number of community boards, frequented by newbies, unpublished, published, you name it. The boards were very dedicated to helping writers learn the basics. Along with the lessons, there were contests and flash fiction exercises and round robins and stories. Lots and lots of stories, written by people who just loved to tell them, knowing that these were probably never going to be in any actual book. In fact, they are all the property of Harlequin. We knew it was highly unlikely that HQN editors would look at them and scream, “Eureka! We’ve found the next Nora Roberts!” But we learned. And kept writing. It was a wonderful, supportive environment; once you made the initial plunge it was not at all intimidating to post there. I kind of miss those days.

Today I am blessed to listen in as blog buddies like Bernita and December talk about the craft. Opinions about the ‘rules’ are as different and varied as snowflakes, but what binds us all together is the need to share a story, and share it well. I’ve been thinking about starting a romance board where friends can get together and talk about stuff; give lessons we’ve learned and post stories and ideas that we know won’t darken an agent’s desk but we still love; celebrate after the victories and console after the rejections; anyone can post and give honest feedback but you have to be constructive. Snarking would be fine, but crushing would be out of the question. How it would differ from the 1,245,987 other boards out there I haven’t figured out yet. I’ll have to think on it some more.

The Winnah!

The winner of My Favorite Romantic Line contest is-

Charles!

My hubby's fedora liked you best. Please email me at rob.writer@cox.net with your addy and I'll have your gift certificate winging its way to you with champagne wishes and caviar dreams!

Thanks to everybody who entered. A few of these great lines:

From Charles, our winner: Say I'm reading a book and a beautiful woman like Lana asks, "whatcha reading?" I say, "I'm reading a book on how to meet beautiful women but I had no idea it would work so fast."

From Precie: "And when my body shall cease, my soul will still be yours. Claire---I swear by my hope of heaven, I will not be parted from you."

From Carrie: "You were the song all along, and before the song dies... I should tell you... I should tell you... I have always loved you -- "

And finally, from Becky: "OK Gerdie, brace yourself, here I come..."

Is it any wonder I love romance?

Bits and Pieces

My review is up at Enduring Romance- Seducing the Mercenary by Loreth Anne White. Good political thriller.

I have a coupon for a free pedicure. Not sure if I'll use it or not. There are so many pampering services I could enjoy if I trusted people more. I haven't had manicures or pedicures because I've heard too many horror stories about workers using unclean tools and I would just be the one to catch some disease and have my fingers and toes fall off.

I don't want massages, either. Friends who try to rub the back of my neck make it worse. They press down too hard on the front part of my collarbone- treating it like a handlebar, I guess- and I end up aching for the next hour. But even for someone who is trained to do it right, I cannot bring myself to lie on that table nude to the waist. If you're going to ask me to get naked, at least buy me dinner first.

Friday is the last day of school, so I'm enjoying this week as much as I can. I've decided to put off all cleaning except for toxic zones, and stay on the computer as much as possible! Of course, to celebrate summer (and both of my kids being 4.0 students this year!) we're going to the new movie theater in our area- doormen greet you, and you can have dinner brought to your theater seat. As I understand it, a small pizza costs $30, but still. Perfect children are hard to come by.

Deciding on the movie is harder. We all want to see Iron Man and Prince Caspian, hubs and kids want to see the new Indiana Jones. I'm not as excited about that one. One part of me squees- I had an enormous crush on Indy, and loved those flicks- but I don't like my memories messed with and Harrison's shelf life as leading man is coming close to ending. Watching Indy break a hip isn't worth a $30 pizza. And thinking of what George Lucas did with Star Wars 'prequels' makes me wonder if the new Indy is going to be a big bowl of suckage. Oh, well. That pizza had better be worth it.

Enter or Endure the Wrath of the Salamander

Meet the newest member of the family. My son was thrilled with this little guy, whom he named Bruenor, after the dwarf Bruenor Battlehammer in R.A. Salvatore’s Icewind Dale trilogy. It’s my son’s favorite book series, and when I asked him why name a salamander after a dwarf, he said, “They’re both spirited and they don’t like to stay in one place.”

I am now searching for a terrarium with the tightest-fitting lid in the civilized world.

I am also waiting, impatiently, for entries for my contest. Here’s the original post, but skip those requirements. I’m going to make it easy for you. In the comments of this post, give me your favorite romantic line of all time, from books, television, film, or song. The contest runs until May 30, and the winner (chosen by my hubby’s fedora) will receive a $20 gift certificate from Amazon. Come on and enter! Who wouldn’t love book money?

It’s better than a belly rub.

I WON! Oh, Yeah, You Can Too. And Also, I WON!

And very proud of myself for having been pulled from Bernita's hat. As part of my 'fee' for winning, I'm paying it forward. Let your friends know!

Here's the sitch. From today until Thursday, May 15, tell me in the comments of this post your favorite romantic line from a contemporary romance. I'm talking those printed from 1970-present; books set in different time periods are fine. If you can't remember the title, that's okay. My favorite line is from a book so forgettable I don't recall anything but the line: "I cannot promise you social position, or riches. But I can promise you a heart that beats for you, and you alone, until it beats no more."

What made you cry? What made you sigh? Any romance sub-genre is accepted, and as long as that line or two made you catch your breath (even if YOU wrote it, authors) we're good.

My husband's fedora will serve as judge. The winner will receive a $20 Amazon gift certificate. Let me feel the love!

Alpha-Bits, Pt. 4: Hard Core!

Alphas, be they cops, corporate honchos, cowboys, or car mechanics, are all Tough. As. Nails. Not so much with the warm fuzzies. Not very understanding, or even, at times, forgiving. A friend of mine who was more Alpha than I have ever seen before or since once said, “Every criminal should be executed. The really bad ones should be tortured first.”

That unbending spine is both a source of frustration and a reason for admiration for our heroine. As difficult as it may be to live with Mr. Upright, it’s that sense of justice that makes him strong. Call it the Good-Kirk-Evil-Kirk Syndrome. Remember that episode of Star Trek? Evil Kirk was a bad man with poor impulse control, but he was the one who got things done. Good Kirk was compassionate and caring and suffered from crippling indecision.

Romance Alphas aren’t much different- they start out somewhat dark and dangerous, even if they’re firmly on the right side of the law. Helping them find the balance between Val Jean and Javert is the heroine’s flipping job in these books. But I beg, plead, and bribe with Triple Split Your Pants brownies if need be- quit wussifying my Alphas!

I’m perfectly okay with a hero who can blow the bad guy away and not suffer the agonies of the damned. I’m perfectly okay with a hero who can blow the bad guy away, period. Forgiveness and sweetness and warmth can be powerful, wonderful things; any Alpha is capable of them. And sometimes those things can require more strength than pulling a trigger.

But I want a good reason for his decision. Please, please, please don’t turn my ruthless, tough hero into some milksop who can’t take care of business simply because he’s now in luuuuurve. Let my caveman keep his club.