Love scenes v.s. laundry and shrieking parrots
It's not easy being a writer.
Today is my day off. I still want to write an update about RT, for this blog, must mail out stuff I promised, etc. etc. Poor DH had to work all day, so determined to clean house AND finish up my WIP, I set to with cheerful resolve. I did two loads of laundry, then, as the second spun in the dryer, set about to write a very important love scene in Panther, my follow-up option to COBRA. It's Rashid's story and I want to do him justice. I always leave love scenes for last because they are hardest to write. This book has NINE love scenes, which makes me suspect my editor will need a fire extinguisher standing nearby.
Anyway, I'm typing madly away, trying to ignore distractions.
Me: A surge of feminine power filled her as she reached up, sliding her hands around his neck, dragging him down for a kiss. Her lips softened beneath the crushing pressure of his, accepting the deep thrusts of his tongue.
Parrot: SHRIEK SHRIEK SHRIEK F*** YOU!
Tia the dog: Ruff, ruff!
I sigh, take care of the assorted distractions, return to my hero and heroine, though the mood is broken.
Me, typing on laptop: He tore himself away, panting. Hot desire tightened his face. She backed away slightly, enormously excited at having pushed him into this, a bit scared at his dark intensity. Could she handle him?
Me: sigh... Time to clean the toilets. Maybe a hot date with the Tidy Bowl Man will prove a more romantic distraction than a foul-mouthed fowl or a ringing dryer or a dog barking at everything in sight. I scrub and sigh as I do housework, trying desperately to envision a romantic mood to resume working. Doesn't work.
So Happy Mother's day to all moms out there in cyber space. May your dates with your heroes prove much more romantic than Rashid's, who is glaring at me now in frustration, as I left him hanging in the middle of a love scene. I guess it isn't easy being a romance hero any more than it is a writer.