|Vonnie Davis likes a special kind of hero.|
Vonnie has a Weakness for Men with a Wry Sense of Humour
I’ve always loved romance. From the first time I checked out a Victoria Holt book from the local library, I was hooked. Back then, as a high school graduate, I was into gothic romances—handsome, yet brooding heroes thrown into the mix with headstrong and curious heroines. If the settings of the books were worlds apart from my ho-hum existence, then so much the better. Over the years my tastes in heroes have changed. I love an alpha male, but I also have a weakness for men with a wry sense of humor, a devotion to family and love of animals. And although I usually start out with an alpha male when I visualize my fictitious men, their softer sides come into play, too.
Storm Masterson is not a typical Alpha Male
Take Storm Masterson in STORM’S INTERLUDE due for release July15th from The Wild Rose Press. He was designed as a typical alpha. Then halfway through the book, I realized he was the caregiver for the family. That didn’t take away from his strength or his maleness, in fact, it added an endearing quality to it.
He’s a man who talks to his animals, dotes on his nephew, frets over his twin sister who has leukemia and can’t seem to keep his hands or his lips off his sister’s new nurse. Rachel finds him too male for her tastes. Of course, tastes change, don’t they?
What kind of Romantic Hero do you Like?
|Readers will fall in love with Storm Masterson|
Now, back to STORM’S INTERLUDE. I’d like to share an excerpt from the beginning of the book. Here’s the opening scene--
"Someone swaggered out of the moonlit night toward Rachel. Exhausted from a long day of driving, she braked and blinked. Either she was hallucinating or her sugar levels had plummeted. Maybe that accounted for the male mirage, albeit a very magnificent male mirage, trekking toward her. She peered once more into the hot July night at the image illuminated by her headlights. Sure enough, there he was, cresting the hill on foot—a naked man wearing nothing but a black cowboy hat, a pair of boots and a go-to-hell sneer.
Well, well, things really did grow bigger in Texas. The man quickly covered his privates with his black Stetson. Rachel sighed. The show was evidently over. Should she stand up in her Beetle convertible and applaud? Give a couple cat calls? Wolf whistles? Maybe not.
She turned down the music on the car’s CD player. Sounds of crickets and a lonely bullfrog in the distance created a nighttime symphony in the stillness of this isolated stretch of country road. Lightning bugs darted back and forth, blinking a display of neon yellow glow.
The naked man strode toward her car, and Rachel’s heart rate kicked up. Common sense told her to step on the gas, yet what woman wanted to drive away from such a riveting sight? Still, life had taught her to be careful. She reached into her handbag and extracted her chrome revolver. Before he reached her car, she quickly slid her gun under the folds of her skirt.
Just let him try anything funny—I know how to take care of myself.
Both of his large hands clasped his hat to his groin. His face bore annoyance and a touch of chagrin. “I need a ride.” By his bearing and commanding tone of voice, she guessed the man was used to giving orders and having them followed.
Her eyes took a slow journey across his face. Even in the moonlight, she could see traces of Native heritage. His shoulder-length ebony hair, too long for her tastes, glistened against his bronzed skin. Proud arrogant eyes sparked anger.
Because Rachel believed in indulging herself, she allowed her eyes to travel over his broad shoulders, muscular chest and tight abdominal muscles. She saw a thin trail of dark hair starting below his navel, knowing full well where it ended, and fought back a groan. Her eyes slid back up to lock on his. “You need a pair of pants, too.” Knowing her voice hummed with desire, she cleared her throat, hoping the naked man hadn’t noticed.
He looked up at the sky for a beat. “Just my freakin’ luck! A birthday party gone bad, and now I’m bein’ ogled by some horny kid with damnable blue eyes.”
What the heck was wrong with her eyes? She quickly glanced in her rearview mirror and saw nothing amiss. She narrowed those “damnable blue eyes” and sneered. “Look, buster, I’m not the one prancing around Texas naked as a jaybird. I’ll have you know I’m hardly a kid.” She glanced down at the black cowboy hat. “And, furthermore, stop hiding behind that big ol’ Stetson. From what I saw, a French beret would do the job.”
There, let the arrogant fool stew on that while he struted back to whatever rock he crawled out from under. She slammed her car in gear and sped off.
She swore she wouldn’t look in her rearview mirror. Nope, she would not look. Like a magnet emitting a powerful homing signal, her eyes slowly slid to the glass surface. He was standing where she’d left him, his Stetson tilted back on his head, his hands fisted on his narrow naked hips and his mouth moving. He was no doubt cussing her out.
A smile blossomed; a French beret would never hide all that. Wait until she e-mailed Lynda, her best friend. She’d never believe her story of a naked man on a narrow, deserted road in the hill country of Texas."
Just a note that the cover of 'Storm's Interlude' won grand prize in the Still Moments Magazine Cover Contest. Vonnie is a member of She Writes, a virtual community for women who write. Visit You Tube to see Vonnie's book trailer for Storm's Interlude.
Vonnie's delicious blog: http://www.vintagevonnie.blogspot.com/ and her website: http://www.vonniedavis.com/Home_Page.html
Thanks for visiting my blog, Vonnie and best luck for release of Storm's Interlude. July will be an exciting month for you!