Handsome hunks of the Old West

Blogging on my publisher's site - cactus rose authors blog - about hero characterizations.

How to Write Your Synopsis Without Losing Your Mind

I'm proud to say the following was printed as an article in the Tampa Area Romance Author's newsletter, The Scarlett Letter, as well as reprinted by various other RWA chapter newsletters! Hope it helps - enjoy!

I used to leave writing the synopsis until the end—makes sense, right? I soon figured out this meant wasted hours reading the darn book AGAIN to figure out what is actually happening when. There had to be a better way.
And there is! When I’m writing my WIP, I keep another document open that is simply numbered 1-20, or however many chapters I expect to write (you can always add or delete! Brilliant!). As I finish a chapter, I toggle to my other document and write a quick sketch of what just happened. When I’m finished with the rough draft, or at any time in between, I can read through this simple document and see the flow of the story. It’s a lot easier to get an overall picture of your GMC, character development, story arc, etc., than relying on notes, post-its, or memory. If I change, add, or delete a chapter, I adjust it on the synopsis worksheet, always trying to keep the worksheet as true to what’s actually in the chapter as possible. Before adapting this technique, I used to find that the synopsis described things that didn’t actually happen in the book!


Since the key to a good synopsis is focusing on WHAT HAPPENS, the battle is almost won. Now, you can polish it up. I also save it in different forms – a 1-2 page, a 3-5 page, and then a fully detailed synopsis. By cutting and pasting from the master document, I will then have whatever size synopsis the editor wants to see.

(Now, if I can only figure out a way for an editor to request it!)

Music for Inspiration

Calling all romance authors - now the question is, what music do you often listen to while writing?
Depending on the historical era, I throw in a soundtrack - Pride & Prejudice (Kiera K version), Emma, etc...and for the rest, my old standby is Somewhere in Time, though the cd I have is very old - probably the oldest cd I own! I can't think of how many pages of Tame the Wild Wind were written to SIT on "continuous play" mode. Soft Mozart tunes and opera melodies are another favorite. I generally avoid music with words so it doesn't throw off concentration.
Other favorites are the soundtracks to Far and Away and The Last of the Mohicans, which is so beautiful. I find that the music alone is itself inspiration - since most writers "see" their stories as they write (I do), the background music is like my very own soundtrack to that movie in my head. Now, if only Amazon could enhance the Kindle to have various selections played while the reader is engrossed in a story. Hmmm - maybe I'll patent that idea!

Favorite Romantic Books (not necessarily romance novels)

Ethan Frome - though forced to read this in high school, I later learned to appreciate it. I like the juxtaposition of the frozen winter and his frozen heart, and how Mattie later turns his life around. Sad ending, of course.

Jane Eyre - all time fave of a nanny turned bride. In the real world, many rich men didn't marry their kids' governesses and nannies back then, but Jane changes Mr. Rochester's life around. Always wanted to read Far Sargosa Sea, about his first wife (the loony locked in the tower) but never got it. One day.

Pride & Prejudice - the classic. Skip the P&P and Zombies version, though! I'll take Mr. Darcy without the kickass zombie moves, thank you. Lizzy is the perfect heroine - realistic, practical, and a romantic at heart.

Emma - favorite story of growing up with your future husband. Mr. Knightley is my fave Austen hero - he's forgiving, loyal, and devastatingly adorable (at least in the movie version!).

Wuthering Heights - is there any better love story than Heathcliff's and Cathy's? Even though she tortures him and makes his life a living hell by marrying the rich boy down the road, their love survives the grave. The Yorkshire moors are made only more intriguing when one ponders their ghosts, forever united, running around the heather.

All timer - Gone With the Wind! Scarlett is the quintessential heroine, though she is really not likable if one really studies the book. But Melanie is the other extreme, so we all like Scarlett. She's brave and daring, and loves with her whole heart.

Sense and Sensibility - Austen's other lovely story of sisters is a classic women's read. Marianne is embarrassingly like how I used to be as a lovestruck teen, but Elinor gives us hope that we may all blossom into refined women, though with a touch of romance in our lives.

What are your favorite love stories? Please share!

An Imaginary Interview with a Romance Author

Q: Where do you get your ideas and inspiration?

A: This is the most common, but easiest question to answer. Sometimes a scene in a movie, or something I hear or read about, sparks something. For Tame the Wild Wind (comes out next May!), I had heard the term "claim jumper" and thought about what would happen if two people claimed the same piece of land. Take away their money and means to fight in court, and add a steamy southwestern backdrop - and you have a story! Sometimes a costume book will suggest a character.



Q: How do you choose characters' names?

A: I try not to pick ones based on people I know - and there will never be a character named Anna or any form of that for modesty reasons! But variations on the A names I do like - several of my novels have a heroine with an "A" name - The Emerald Hawk's Arianne, The Outlaw's Bride's Abigail, The Boundless Sea's Arabella, and The Captain's Lady's Amanda. I guess I choose "A names more often than not because, like most authors, as I'm writing, I see part of myself as the main character. It's easier to get into someone's head and write from their POV if I associate with them. But strangely, once the book is finished and I read it back, I am no longer that character but an innocent bystander! Incidentally, I would never name a heroine my daughter's name, even though she was named for Meggie in The Thorn Birds, one of my favorite novels. I also have a character naming book and try to pick names that fit the characters, often changing them early on until the fit is right. The Boundless Sea's Philip may change, but Arabella won't.

Q: Tell me about Miss Bennett in Love.

A: This is the first Regency novel I've written and I'm very excited and pleased with it. I still have final editing to do and some filler scenes, but it's pretty much done. Miss Bennett is Mary Bennett, the middle sister from Pride & Prejudice. It is not written in the vein of Jane Austen at all, but it is an accurately drawn historical novel. I always liked Mary's character and thought that, beneath her prim and austere exterior, lurked the heart of a true romantic. She meets a dashing colonel who is heir to an earldom. So our little Mary becomes a countess. I will be searching for an agent for this novel soon and hope it will be the "breakout" novel I've been waiting for! This is the first in a trilogy I plan to write about the younger sisters of P&P - so next will be Miss Darcy in Love, and Miss Lucas in Love.

Q: What is your inspiration for The Boundless Sea?

A: I have always loved Juliet's soliloquoy about "My love is as boundless as the boundless sea" and wanted to use it in a novel but never knew how. I love the ocean and everything to do with it, and wanted to center a novel around the sea. My hero, a former pirate hunter, Captain Philip Rathbone (surname will be changed, just don't know what at this point - but Rathbone is always my choice for a work in progress) has been summoned by, he believes, a love from his past. In truth, it is the daughter he's never heard of who's urged him to come to her mother's rescue. Set in the Spanish court and sweeping into the Caribbean, it's filled with dark priests, ruthless pirates, sea battles, and of course, true love and a treasure chest or two. The images I have of these characters are a Russell Crowe type and a Salma Hayek type. Wow - what a combo.

Kindertransport - by Jennifer Childers (WRP)

Jen is a talented writer and sensitive soul. Kindertransport is her first published novel by my publisher, The Wild Rose Press. It's set in the turbulent times of Nazi Germany. The heroine, Erika, is a nurse in charge of physically challenged children, who, of course, were targeted by Hitler's regime for extermination. When Erika has to trust an SS officer to save the children, the story unfolds from there, in a mixture of intrigue, suspense, and romance, of course!

Check out the other Wild Rose Press authors and books at www.thewildrosepress.com. They have something for everyone - historical, inspirational, contemporary, and cowboys. Lots of cowboys! Whether you like your romance spicy or sweet, WRP is for you.

excerpt from The Boundless Sea - work in progress

Scene of Philip and Arabella when they first meet…..


“Who goes there?” Philip strained his eyes in the darkness. A shadowy figure lurked behind the corner of the dank hold. He could hear the creature’s rapid breathing. A strong stench of fetid animal dung filled what little air there was. The ship rocked sideways, stirring up the smell. He clutched his handkerchief to his nose. The figure, whether man or beast, he could not tell, stepped into the feeble light. A broken bottle was wielded in its fist.
And then the creature spoke. The voice, though he had not heard it in seventeen years, was all too familiar.
“If you touch me, I will kill you.”
A thousand emotions, all of them disturbing, flowed through him. He blinked hard, adjusting his eyes to the dimness.
“Arabella?”
The bottle wavered. “Who are you? Did xxxxx send you down here to murder me?” She bit off a sharp laugh. “He need not have bothered, since the stench is enough to fell a bear.” Philip stepped forward, and Arabella faltered back with a gasp. “Stay where you are, sir!”
“Arabella, it’s me – it’s Philip.” And then, as if she wouldn’t have known him otherwise, he added, “Philip Rathbone.”
“I know who you are,” she breathed. The bottle fell to the floor. “What are you doing here?”
Her voice was even, measured, but he heard the falter. His heart leapt a little in his chest.
“Why, you sent for me. I came as quickly as I could, only I met with….” He took a few steps toward her and she stood her ground. In the faint light seeping through the cracks in the deck overhead, he could make out her features. Her brown eyes were dark orbs set against her pale complexion. Her full red lips, one of her most attractive features, looked tight and drawn. She put out her hand to touch him, eyes wide. He remained in place, watching her, fighing back the urge to take her in his arms….
Her fingers brushed his coat and she jumped. “My God, you are real,” she stammered. Her arm dropped to her side. Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, I sent for you? I have nothing to say to you, Philip Rathbone. Nothing whatsoever.” She whirled away from him, and he caught the faint whisper of a scent of roses clinging to her tangled dark hair as she walked.
He followed her. He always had. He pulled the torn and crumpled broadsheet from inside his coat, where he’d kept it close to his heart. He shook it in front of her.
“Is not this your writing, Arabella? I beg your pardon, I mean, Countess of Aragon?” The words were bitter in his mouth. How long had she waited to marry his rival, the one man he would sooner spit on than share a casual greeting? The betrayal still cut, even after so many years. But still, she had sent for him, and he’d come running, like a dog, his tail between his legs. Hoping for understanding…an explanation…anything.
She snatched the paper from him and stood under a brighter beam of light. She crushed it in her hand.
“Marguerite,” she said. She stared at him for a moment, her gaze lingering on his mouth. “My daughter,” she added.
He tried to hide his disgust and sorrow and rage. She’d bedded the Count as soon as he, Philip, had turned his back.
“Belated congratulations on the birth of your child,” he said, surprised his voice was so calm. “My regards to the proud father. How is the Count these days?”
Arabella chewed her lip until she tasted blood. How dare he? How could he speak to her after all he’d done to her? She longed to tell him the truth; how she’d been sick with grief, desolate, even, when he’d left her to pursue other adventures. Left her pregnant and alone, and at the mercy of a man such as Cesar, the Count of Aragon, who’d pretended to be her friend.
But years of court life had taught her many things. One was to never show her true feelings, but to wear a mask of indifference. She squared her shoulders and held her head high, as if she were in the Seville court rather than in the rolling bowels of a pirate ship.
“He is superb. I will give him your regards, if we can ever leave this wretched place.” Her cold gaze glanced up at his shoulders and across his chest. “You’re not as thin as you once were. Perhaps you will be useful to me.” She turned on her heel and he snatched her elbow before she could react. His left hand caught her right as she raised it to strike him a blow that would fell any other man. Any other man not severely and utterly in love with her.
She stared into his eyes, her own wide and bright with unshed tears. Philip felt the surging passion rise in him once more, but fought it down as he glanced at her throat, as pale and soft as an apricot’s blush. How many kisses had he placed there? How many nights had he caressed her, enjoying her maidenly blushes and sighs, until she’d given herself, freely and totally, to him?
“How could you do it?” he asked. He dropped her elbow, but his hand still clutched her wrist. It felt fragile and delicate in his hand. His grip eased. “How could you marry that….that….”
“Because I knew it would kill you,” she spat. A single tear slipped down her cheek, like dew on a roseleaf. “After what you did to me, I only wanted vengeance.” A sob tore from her, and she pulled at her arm. “Let go of me.”
He shook his head slowly. “You cannot know what your act of vengeance did to me.”
She gulped and shrugged. “Your cold heart will mend, I’m sure.”
He sneered at her. “And yours can never break, since it’s made of hard iron.” Rage and grief tore through her like a runaway stag. “You know nothing of my torment, of my pain! How quickly did you bed the fair lady xxxx? Was it the week you left me, or did you wait all of a month?”
“I have no children, no reminders of my broken vows, madam.” He finally released her hand. “Does she look like him? Double chin and warts on her ears?” He took a lock of her hair in his hand, meaning to tug on it, but at the familiar softness, he could only run his fingers through it. She stepped away from him and he dropped his arm.
“She is beautiful,” she whispered. Her gaze was on his mouth again. “She looks like your mother. She has her green eyes.” The hardened look around her lips faded, and he thought he was seeing her as he had years before, the night she’d snuck away from her father’s castle to the woodsman’s lodge where he’d waited for her….
“My…mother? How could she look like….”
Had it not been for her hands suddenly gripping his, he would have sunk to the filthy floor. And then she was in his arms, gasping his name and sobbing, her mouth heated softness against his. He tried to kiss her back, but was paralyzed with the stunning realization of her words, of the truth. He had a child…a daughter! Arabella had carried his child….
His hands floated over her middle, the ruined silk gown she wore a hindrance. He tried to imagine her belly large with his daughter, and cursed aloud his youthful xxxx that caused him to miss it. To betray her.
“Tell me,” he breathed, tasting her lips, sweet like honey from the hive. “Tell me about her.”
They were on the floor, and he’d pulled her onto his lap, his arms settling around her tight. He would never release her again.
She choked on a laugh, and pressed her warm cheek to his. “She is the most intelligent girl I have ever seen. She reminds me of your father. You will think so, too. She often baffled all of her tutors, and of course, Ces…” she bit off his name. “He was very indulgent. He treated her well, though he suspected she was not his.”
Philip closed his eyes and inhaled the scent clinging to her hair, her throat….She sucked in a calming breath, and her bosom rose and fell. As if watching in a dream, his hand slid up her waist to cup her breast. His fingers skimmed the rounded fullness peeking through her bodice. She shivered, and he drew her closer. Her gown must have been loose, because his hand could just slip beneath the fabric. The feel of her bare flesh against his palm was more than he could take.