How I Stopped Living (and Writing) in the Past

I’ve always loved history. As a kid, I was fascinated by books set in the past, from the Little House books to the Caddie Woodlawn series to Summer of My German Soldier and Farewell to Manzanar. I devoured an entire set of biographies in my elementary school library about famous women like Clara Barton, Florence Nightingale, Harriet Tubman, and Julia Ward Howe. I was a history nut.

When I got into my teens and first discovered romance novels, it didn’t take me long to discover historicals. I read early Kathleen Woodiwiss, Rosemary Rogers, Judith McNaught, Johanna Lindsey, and Bertrice Small. My mother scoffed a bit at my fascination with what she alternately termed “bodice-rippers” or “soft-core porn,” but I begged to differ. I knew more about both American and European (especially English) history from reading those books than most kids my age knew about what happened last week. I figured it was not just fun, it was downright educational!

In any event, it seems only natural that when I started writing my own books, I gravitated toward historical romance. In point of fact, I remember telling my critique partners quite early on in our relationship that I would never write a contemporary romance because I couldn’t possibly invent a solid plot and conflict for one. All of my story ideas were set in the past, and I was sure I’d never be struck with the inspiration for anything “modern.”

Well, I’ve learned I should never say never. My first idea for a contemporary is actually still a work in progress, but the inspiration for that story (a presentation I saw at an RWA chapter meeting last year) seemed to unlock something in my head, and to my surprise, I found myself bombarded with plots and conflicts set in the here and now.

The first of these to see publication is The Gospel of Love: According to Luke, which comes out today from Cobblestone Press. It’s the first in a planned four novella series (though I have no idea when I’ll find the time to write the final three installments) starring four brothers, predictably named Luke, Matthew, Mark, and John.

Luke’s story came to me seemingly out of nowhere. I had gotten about two-thirds of the way through the Regency-set historical I was working on at the time (Wickedly Ever After) and hit a road block. I was casting around for something to fill in the time while I waited for the rest of Wickedly to “come,” and for some reason, the words “Gospel of Love” popped into my head. From there, the “according to” part seemed only natural, and suddenly I had a title and a protagonist and an angle (first person male narration). I sat down and started writing, and two weeks later, I had a 22,000 word novella that I loved. Lucky for me, Cobblestone loved it, too, and offered to publish it.

Because this book is such a departure from my two historical novellas at Cobblestone, I’m interested to see how readers react to it. I wonder if those who don’t normally read contemporaries will read this story because they’ve read one or both of my historicals. Similarly, I wonder if some folks who don’t typically take to historical will read Luke and like it enough to give my historicals a try. And then I wonder if they’ll think I suffer from multiple personality disorder! Especially since, in the wake of writing Luke, I’ve come up with a sci-fi futuristic series and a high concept for a paranormal series. I’m starting to wonder if there is any subgenre of romance I’ll leave untouched…

But enough about me. Let’s talk about my book! (Okay, technically, I guess that’s still about me, but humor me.

Blurb

Luke Finley, the eldest of four brothers, is a committed serial monogamist. He’s all for one woman at a time, but not one woman forever. He knows a lifetime of fidelity just isn’t in his genes. But when his latest girlfriend kicks him out–of his condo–the woman he’s always thought of as “one of the guys” turns out to be the one woman who can make him believe in forever.

 EXCERPT BELOW THE CUT:

As I walked out of the pub and into the parking lot, a cold blast of air greeted me, and I remembered I’d left my jacket on the coat rack inside. I turned around to go back inside to retrieve it and came nose to nose—or more accurately, neck to nose—with Lisa.

“Hey,” I said, a little startled by her sudden appearance.

“Hey,” she replied.

I thought she was on her way to her own car, but she didn’t move on. Instead, she looked up at me, her wide green eyes sparkling with amusement and…something else. Something that made my balls tighten and my cock twitch. Which was odd, because I’d never thought of shagging Lisa myself. Not until this moment, anyway. Now, it was all I could think about.

“I came out here because I had to tell you something.”

“Oh?”

She put her hand on my upper arm, and my muscles tensed beneath her touch. I wanted to cup her cute little ass in my palms—yeah, I’d noticed it was cute—drag her to my chest, and kiss her. And then take her back to my hotel room and…

“I don’t think you’re not the marrying type, Luke. I think you choose women who aren’t the type you’ll marry.”

I was halfway to making my move when her words stopped me cold. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

It wasn’t like Lisa to be cryptic. She said what she meant straight out, no beating around the bush, which was the main reason she’d infiltrated our little band of brothers. The way she thought, the way she spoke, she was more like a guy than a lot of men I knew.

At the moment, though, she didn’t seem like one of the guys. She seemed every inch a woman. A woman whose pants I suddenly and unexpectedly wanted to get into. Even though—or perhaps because—she was behaving just like a woman and making no sense at all.

She sighed, an impatient gust of breath. “You sleep with women who meet some physical ideal you have in your head without for a moment thinking whether you actually like them or not.”

Okay, now she really was sounding like a woman. “Of course, I sleep with women I find physically attractive. In case you hadn’t noticed, that’s kind of a prerequisite if you’re a guy.”

She crossed her arms over her breasts, thrusting them upward beneath the fabric of her low cut, cashmere sweater. Damn, she had cleavage. How had I failed to notice that before? My dick strained uncomfortably against my Jockeys. I should’ve worn boxers.

“And they want you for the same reason,” she went on, not acknowledging my point. “You’re handsome, you’re rich. You fit their ideal picture of a husband, but they don’t care about you. And you know it, deep down, which is why you won’t marry them.”

“Oh, great.” I snorted. “Now you’re going to tell me I should be looking for my soul mate or some such crap.”

“Well, if you want to keep spending the night in hotels every few years when your girlfriends realize you’re not going to come up to bat, that’s your business. I just observe that most people want to be wanted for more than who they are on the outside.” She shrugged and turned to go back into the pub.

I grabbed her arm to stop her, pure reflex. Her eyes widened, giving her the startled appearance of a woodland nymph caught naked in her bath by a mortal. As soon as I had the thought, I wanted to laugh at myself. My college mythology professor would be pleased to know her course hadn’t been totally wasted on me.

“What are you suggesting, then?” I asked.

She shivered, but I knew it wasn’t because she was cold. The heat sizzling between us as we stood on the sidewalk in the cold, winter air could have melted a snowbank. Probably would have if it hadn’t been the driest winter on record.

“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m just saying—” She licked her lips with the sexiest pink tongue I’d ever seen. I could think of quite a few better uses for it.

“Who are you suggesting?” I amended, rubbing my thumb over her upper arm in a small, circular motion.

Her eyelashes flew up then fluttered down. “Me,” she whispered. “I’m suggesting me.”

————

Thanks to the Naughty and Spice gals for sharing their blog space with me today! And if you’d like to read more from Luke, stop by Cobblestone Press today and pick up a copy! 

This entry was posted on Friday, June 13th, 2008 at 9:52 am and is filed under Open Mic Spice. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.