Making the Belle of the Ball a Sympathetic Character

         Were you the most popular girl in high school? Perhaps you were the prom queen or head cheerleader. Most romance readers never had that experience. It is no wonder they enjoy a down and out heroine, the wallflower, or the overlooked bookworm. How about a heroine who is the bell of the ball? The girl all the other girls hated because she snatched up all the available men. Who would make such a woman the heroine? Not me, that’s for sure, not until I attended New York City RWA conference where I found out the head cheerleader can be a heroine, if she suffers enough first. Pays her dues so to speak, is broken in a major way, and grows through the experience.

            This is how I came up with the idea of Eileen, Emily’s older sister from Undercover Rebel, a beautiful heiress who refuses all the men who want to court her. To those on the outside, it appears as if Eileen is an arrogant female by her behavior. Her only redeeming feature in the first book, Undercover Rebel, is she genuinely loves her family, especially her little sister. This keeps her from being a total witch, but Eileen hasn’t suffered, yet.

            Eileen suffers physically through the Civil War, but her major suffering comes from the realization she’ll never married or have children in the post war South. Eileen wanted someone special, a man who would stand up to her, a man she’d dreamed about, but she wasted her time waiting. Her future as a spinster aunt looms before her. In desperation, she becomes a mail order bride by writing letter after letter about yearning to be an obedient, doting wife to an unknown man. On her way out to her fiancé, she witnesses a train robbery. Enter Marshal Colt Shepard who believes Eileen might be in cahoots with the bank robbers.

 

EXCERPT:

“What has your pretty little brow all furrowed up like that?” he asked with a touch of laughter in his voice.

“Well-I-well…” This was her favorite type of man, one who would flatter her with words of her beauty. Without thinking, she fell into her normal flirtatious attitude, batting her eyes coquettishly. This should be easy.

“Maybe you’re deciding which lies will work on me best. Is that it?” He put one hand on a seat and leaned forward, closing the distance separating them.

He called her a liar. “How dare you!” She hissed the words, pulled her back ramrod straight, and narrowed her eyes. She learned how to project indignant from the best, her mother. Never mind the fact she’d been contemplating which lie to use on him.

His laughter unnerved her, but not as much as his hand touching her cheek. She looked up into his suddenly somber eyes. What was he thinking? He looked so serious. She blinked twice. Her eyes must be playing tricks on her because his face seemed closer, closer still, until he grew unfocussed. She closed her eyes briefly, hoping to clear up her vision.

Lips landed on hers, warm and firm. Her eyes popped open. Sure enough, his slightly out of focused nose and a hunk of blond hair filled her vision. Once she conquered her shock, she decided to let him kiss her. It wasn’t as if she could stop him. Unlike her previous beaus who made awkward attempts she naturally foiled, this was nice. Her skin felt warm despite the wind seeping around the window. Her heart kicked up in an odd flutter, and her toes curled. Could this be what her sister talked about when she described kissing Gray? To think she scolded her sister, calling her no better than a light skirt. Did that make her a light skirt too? She couldn’t afford to be one. She pulled away from the kiss.

“Unhand me sir!”

His eyes crinkled in suppressed laughter. “Look at where my hands are.”

She looked at one large hand still rested on the back of the seat, the other hung lax against his side. Hard to argue with him on that, but still he kissed her. He shouldn’t have done that. “You shouldn’t have kissed me. It was unpardonable of you to take advantage of a war widow.”

Colt crossed his arms and shook his head slowly back and forth. “War widow, my foot. I doubt that very much. Don’t know why you’re parading around in weeds, but I am interested in finding out.”

“What makes you think I am not a widow?” Eileen was miffed over her costume not deceiving him. It could be widows did not go around kissing strange men or at least recent ones didn’t. She’d heard there were some friendly widows in town, but their deceased husbands served only as a name, making her wonder if they ever existed.

He eyed her up and down, smiled, and then let loose a bark of laughter. “Ah, if you were ever married, then your husband should be horse-whipped for his failure to kiss you properly. You do not kiss like a woman with experience. You are more like a love-starved virgin than a widow.”

Eileen stiffened her spine. His words were true, but she resented them just as the same. “Sir, I beg you not to speak poorly of my husband.”

“Ma’am, I can’t speak for a man who doesn’t exist. If you were my wife, you would be well kissed, well handled, and well pleasured.” He said the last word in a suggestive growl.


Ready to read more? A lucky commenter can have a free copy of Rebel Bride.

Undercover Writer

Imagine my surprise when I found out I was blogging on the 5^th of the month too. Who knew? Apparently, not me. I have a secret. It’s one all of you know, but not many other people know including my extended family members. It isn’t a horrible secret, but it is one I’ve been hesitant to tell people. I am a romantic fiction writer. Are you shocked?

I think not, but some folks would be. This year I didn’t go back to school to teach. I am taking the year off to write. My fellow teachers obviously have a clue, and they’re envious to an extent. They imagine me sleeping in, which I do. I get up when the school bus goes by.

Writing is pretty serious business I’ve found out. I try to put in a good six hours of just writing. Editing pretty much kills me because it has to be done immediately it seems. Sure, I’ll  just fly through the 70,000 words in no time. There is promotion too, which I am clueless how to do. Often I've signed up for various promotions courtesy of kind writers or tours, the same time an edit or deadline is due. This isn’t intentional it just happens.

Why don’t I talk about being a writer? I am afraid no one will take me seriously. It’s a shame really because I am doing more solid, true work than I ever did at school. There was so much filler time at school, and very little actual education. In this new venture, I am learning all sorts of things. The major one is you can learn from every writer. The second one is you have to improve. No writer can stay stagnant. Well, I guess they could, but it just wouldn’t be good.

Currently, I am editing an old story because a publisher requested a full. I have major problems with the POV. I pretty much let everyone have one. Argh! At the time, I didn’t see any reason why I shouldn’t do that. I am learning.

I am also coming out of the literary closet, and telling people I am a writer. Next, I’ll start handing out business cards. Maybe even those postcards that have a picture of the book with a blurb.

Undercover Rebel is the first book in my Rebel Hearts series. I finished the third book yesterday. There was great rejoicing in the house. Emily is the Sewell family member who started it all.

Emily Sewell couldn't remember when she fell in love with her neighbor, Gray Masterson. He unfortunately didn't really notice her as a woman until the eve of his leaving to fight in the Civil War. A magical evening ensued with him asking her to wait for him. News that he's been killed on the battlefield propels her into action. She knows he is alive - she just has to find him. The only thing between her and her true love is miles of swamp land, a major war, and her own doubts. Emily wrestles with Gray's possible death, imprisonment, or that he's unwilling to return to her. Can a sheltered Southern Belle navigate the horrors of war to retrieve her fiancé? Emily is willing to try.

Interested in finding out more about Emily and Gray? I will send you a free copy to anyone who is interested in liking the book on Amazon or reviewing it for the tour. You can review it anywhere such as Amazon or Manic Readers. Thanks.

Are you in the literary closet too? Let me know.

Southern Belles, Skirt Hooks, and 504 Jeans

 

 When I was a young teen Levis 504 button fly jeans were the hip item, which meant I naturally had to have a pair. Those pants made a short trip to Goodwill after I wrestled with opening and closing the fly. Why did it have to be so difficult to unbutton those stiff metal buttons? Zippers I knew, and until that time totally underappreciated. After that disastrous experience, I thought about what women willing endure in the name of fashion such as foot crippling platform shoes. Of course, we basically choose to wear these fashions, but what if you had no alternate.

In researching my newest release, Undercover Rebel, Emily, my smitten belle, trades in her hoop skirts and corset to go undercover and crosses enemy lines to rescue her fiancé. Things don’t go all that well, but she rejoices in her stolen boy clothes. Life is so much easier when you don’t have to flatten your hoops to sit or even go through a door. If I thought 504 jeans slowed down a trip to the bathroom, imagine having to hook up your skirts on a metal hook that was installed for that purpose, as you tried to balance yourself over a chamber pot.

If you thought things were simpler in the past, you’d be surprised. There are a boatload of rules for women of good breeding that my incredibly wise editor, Larriane helped me navigate.

Here’s an excerpt from Undercover Rebel, the first book in Rebel Hearts Series.

 Gray’s lips curved upward. “All the Sewells are good looking. It’s commonplace to hear your family mentioned as one of the most comely of the county.”

Emily’s heart took a nosedive like a crow spying a piece of corn. Sure, she heard they were a comely family, but never thought much of it. Comely could mean there were no hunchbacks or cross-eyed cousins. She’d thought perhaps he only commented on her, especially wearing the green satin. No, such praise was too much to hope for.

“Hey there, sugah, what’s with the long face?” Gray raised his hand to place two fingers under her chin, tilting it upwards toward his gaze.

His unexpected action caused her fingers to loosen on her fan and it slipped from her hand. He called her sugar. Mother would hate it and call it common, inappropriate at any time. If only she could grab the word, the look in his eyes, and the feeling inside her, and wrap it, all in cotton batting to store away like a precious keepsake. If only this moment, wait, his lips moved, could it get any better?

“You’ve always been a delightful sprite following your brother and me around. Townsend called you a nuisance, but I never minded. Your high spirits, your curiosity, your courage always impressed me.” Gray ended with a wink.

“It did?” Emily squeaked. She didn’t sound like the belle of the ball. More like her nine-year-old cousin than a femme fatale. Maybe Eileen could get her money back on the potion. Still, Gray called her beautiful, winked at her, and touched her. So far, he brought to life almost every one of her romantic daydreams, except one. His face grew larger. Oh my, he was going to kiss her. Her heart beat double time, making it hard to breathe. Inadvertently, she squeezed her eyes shut, but opened them again, not wanting to miss a second.

Voices getting closer broke through Emily’s rapt contemplation of Gray’s lips. Whirling, tugging on his arm, she urged him down the gravel path.

“Let’s check out the gazebo down by the river,” she commented, hoping Gray could read her unspoken message. The gazebo stood isolated at the edge of the property.

As they walked, greeting people casually, Emily worried Gray wouldn’t kiss her at all. Her skirt bumped against an azalea bush, scattering the deep pink blossoms and releasing their fragrance into the air. Maybe he wasn’t going to kiss her. Maybe she imagined it all. What would she say to Gray? How could she extract herself from this embarrassing situation? A woman they passed teased Gray about how handsome he looked in his uniform. Shaking off her internal monologue, Emily spotted the offender, Elizabeth Anne, and bestowed upon her one of Eileen’s specialties - the gimlet glare with the smug smile. Elizabeth stumbled back a step, obviously interpreting the message correctly. The potion just kicked in.

The people thinned out, and they managed a few more steps without any interruptions. The gazebo with its fresh coat of white paint gleamed like a beacon. Gray walked by her side in a companionable silence. What was he thinking? Looking up at him, furrowing her brow, Gray laughed and dropped a kiss on her brow.

Without thinking, she said, “You kissed me.”

“No, not a kiss. I was just trying to smooth out those worry lines in your forehead. Would you like for me to kiss you?” Waiting for her response, his eyes twinkled.

“Oh yes,” Emily sighed the words, giving voice to her most ardent wish. Gray swept her into his arms, causing her to stumble backwards. He only held her tighter. His lips swooped down on hers. My goodness his lips were soft, yet firm. He smelled so good. The sandalwood aroma wrapped around her along with his arms. The length of his muscular body pressed up against hers, causing her hoop skirt to bell out behind her.

The kiss ended too soon. Staring into Gray’s darkened eyes; the thought of another kiss drew her up on her toes closer to his lips when voices rounding the path corner caused them both to move apart. Emily murmured under her breath. “Damn people.”

It must have been loud enough for Gray to hear because he laughed and attempted to cover it with a cough. Angling his head in her direction, away from the approaching people, he winked, mouthing words she couldn’t quite make out. He turned to greet the group of people. Joseph Calhoun stepped forward in his Confederacy uniform and began pontificating about the strength of the Southern States. Emily caught the eye of Virginia Hammer, who looked supremely bored with her beau’s choice of topic. She’d probably heard Joseph’s impassioned speech more than a few times already.

 Want to read more? Leave a comment indicating you’d like to read more, or even find out what the potion is. I am giving away three free books.

http://www.amazon.com/Undercover-Rebel-ebook/dp/B009AYSA22/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1349259675&sr=8-1&keywords=undercover+rebel