IS MARRIAGE ALL I GET?

by Your Heroine

Let’s face it. In any good romance, the final result is always the same – marriage. You can pretty up the wording and say, “Happily Ever After,” but it’s still the “m” word.

All I ask, as the Heroine of your novel, is to make the grand finale good for the both us – the hero and I. Make the marriage a reward for me too, and I am not just talking about the diamond ring, the “dress”, the new name (his), and the new home (usually his).

Remember that as your Heroine I am the backbone of your story. I am the one your reader – who 99% of the time is a woman – identifies with. She wants to be me so don’t lose me at the final “I do.”

I know that most romances finish with the nuptials since there is no more conflict, no more mystery. But don’t make me seem less after “the end.” Allow me to keep my identity, my self-esteem.

Marriage does not have to mean that I stop being me. I was strong enough to take on the hero, flaws and all, and I am still that person. I am more than the hero’s wife and his children’s mother. I still have a job, dreams and goals that did not disappear when I got carried across the threshold. Yes, I am his wife, but I am also his partner, his lover, his better half. Don’t forget that “better” part.

Show me some respect. Don’t weaken me after marriage, or the sequel will be all about our divorce. A strong hero deserves a strong heroine before and after the marriage. The HEA is the road to a lifelong partnership of equals. I should not become less and him more; nor vice versa. The hero and I are a couple, we are one, we are complements of each other. Our HEA is based of love, loyalty and mutual respect, and together we’ll prepare and embrace the future.

So all I ask is that you, as the writer, make marriage a reward for me too.♥



BIO: The Heroine is a strong woman with a good job, a semi-clean house, two dogs, and a hero-husband, who still brings her flowers just because. She may seem quiet and demure, but she has a sharp tongue and a sharper pen that she is not afraid to use; just ask the hero. Respect her and you’ll be BFFs forever. Invite her out for a drink and she might share with you her secret to a happy and fulfilling marriage.

 

PICTURE FRIDAY: I♥NY - STREET ART

 

I♥NY.  I especially love the street art created in sand – yes, sand! – by this wonderful street artist on Union Square.  I have to find out his name but I never want to interrupt the creative process. Maybe next time.   Enjoy!

Look at that color! those swirls! A Star Flower!

Artist at work.

See why I don't want to interrupt him.

Happy Friday

MAKE THEM LAUGH: OPENING LINES

April 1st is the day for fools – fools in love, fools rushing in, fools galore. It’s a day for pranks, laughter and good jokes. When telling a joke, the key is to have a great punch line – basically, a great ending. When writing a novel –romance or otherwise–, the key is to have a great opening line.

The opening line is too often the only chance an author has to make a first good impression with a reader. Heck, that one line can make or break the sale, which could have led to future sales. The loss is just too depressing to contemplate, which is why your opening line is crucial. Crucial, with a capital “C”.

Here are some examples of great opening lines:


From Julie Garwood romance: "They say he killed his first wife."
Do you not want to know more about this man at the same time that you want to run from him?

From GONE WITH THE WIND: "Scarlett O'Hara was not beautiful, but men seldom realized it when caught by her charm as the Tarleton twins were."
You either want to be like Scarlett or hate her with this intro!

From PRIDE AND PREJUDICE: "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife."
Are those fighting words or what?!

From J.D. Robb suspense: “The business of murder took time, patience, skill, and a tolerance for the monotonous.”
Are shivers not running down your spine after reading that opening?


Think of opening lines from your favorite books or even your own books. Why did they worked? How did they captivate you?

Your opening line has to grab the reader's attention. Yes, this is that famous "hook" moment that everyone talks about. Your opening line, your opening hook should draw readers into your story and make them want to know more about your characters, more about the scene you have opened with; it should leave them wanting more.

Now, capturing the attention of today's readers is difficult. They have a short attention span to begin, and their thirst for immediate gratification makes writers' lives hard. Because if we do not hook them with our opening line, they are moving onto someone else's book. So hook them!

Here are five tips to a great opening line:

1) Start with an action or dialogue
2) Paint a picture
3) Set up a mystery
4) Introduce a character
5) Show them a new world


Opening lines are not easy. Sometimes I have spent days rewriting that one line because it doesn't work for me so I know it will not work for my reader. Other days, the line just magically writes itself. However long it takes for you to find that one great opening line, it will be worth it in the end.

You may have to write a whole scene, a whole chapter, a whole book, before you find just that right one. And that is alright. Whatever works for you. And if all else fails, make them laugh.

A good joke works at conventions, state dinners, weddings so why not as an opening line?♥

PICTURE FRIDAY: I♥NY - LOVE BIRD

I love wandering around New York City.

You never know what you will find.

I found this "little" Love Bird

by the Flatiron Building on 23rd Street.

Lover Birdy has a rose in his mouth

and is as tough as nails.  (Pun intended!)

The message I got was:

Our love is strong.

What do you get?

Leave a comment.

Happy Spring!

TUESDAY TALES: FUNNY

Tuesday Tale is a group of writers who write every week in answer to a word prompt. Most of these writing exercises are excerpts or extras from our works in progress. Here is a little something from my LATIN RHYTHMS romantic suspense, where love can make you dead.

To read more Tuesday Tales, please visit http://tuesdaytales1.blogspot.com. Happy Reading. –m

All she could do was stare, as he pulled up his pants, zipped his fly, and crushed her soul.

    “I love you,” she whispered.

    He had shoved her off him and she fell off the bed tangled in the bed sheets still warm from their lovemaking. The lover of last night had been replaced by a stranger with sharp words and hard eyes.

    “Bitch, please. We fucked. That’s it.” He grabbed his shirt and with one final look of disgust stepped out of the room.

    She sat stunned. She’d thought he was the One.

    She laid her head on the mattress, her tears wetting its surface.

    He was just like the rest. All they wanted was her body and once they had used her – once they had fucked her – they threw her off like yesterday’s garbage.

    Her hands knotted around the stained sheets. Her screams muffled against the unmade bed.

    Sorrow turned to rage and then to laughter and finally to silence.

    She slept.

    She dreamt.

    In her dream, she waited by his car. He always parked away from the entrance to his office building so that his baby would be better protected. He liked to stay late and show the bosses how hard he worked.

    He saw her waiting. There was no welcome on his face.

    She could tell he was going to ignore her so she slid on the hood of his car and crossed her legs.

    His eyes were drawn to her bare legs where her black coat road up high on her thighs.

    She could see the desire in his gaze. Feel it in the hard cock pressed against her knee.

    “It’s just a fuck, baby. Nothing more.” His hands spread her legs and stepped between them.

    The parking lot was empty and dark as he ground himself against her. His mouth against her neck, sucking her flesh.

    She could see shadows on the ceiling as her head tilted backwards to allow his access. The air smelled of fumes and night.

    “Nothing more.”

    “What?” He rasped against her ear giving her a short nip.

    She shivered at his touch, and lowered her face to his.

    “A fuck and nothing more,” she said.

    With a flick of her wrist the knife sliced his throat.

    Eyes stared into eyes. Disbelief. Horror. Fear.

    She woke refreshed and alert.

    She slipped off the bed and headed for the shower. She stripped off her nightgown and let it fall on the floor.

    The mirror reflected a mass of wavy hair and a small red mark on her neck. She rubbed it a bit and frown. She shook her head and reached across the sink and pushed down the drain stopper.

    A lacy slip laid immersed in pink water.

    Funny how easy it was to get blood out of silk.###