Why are some stories so easy to write while others aren’t?
My latest WIP (His Virtual Diva)—soon to be my latest release from eXtasy Books—was very difficult to finish. Truth is, had I not had a deadline, I might have put it aside for another year or two. I blamed my Muse, whom I’d allowed to take a vacation around Thanksgiving. Problem was she hadn’t returned by mid-February. Yikes!
She finally deigned to come back, but I caught her daydreaming about the next story and the next. We had a very serious discussion, including her protests that my finishing was not her fault.
So what was?
The entire time I was working on another book—Temptress of Time—I was excited about His Virtual Diva. Couldn’t wait to finish Temptress of Time I could write His Virtual Diva. I was so anxious to start this story that I used it for an online class, figuring I’d get a head start and complete the story in no time.
Wrong!
Which got me to thinking. Having cleared my decks, metaphorically speaking—HVD submitted—I moved on to my next story. Wrote four chapters in as many weeks and am feeling darn proud of myself.
Some of you may consider a chapter a week (4-5,000 words per) slow. For me it’s fairly fast—especially since I can’t compose on my computer. I handwrite each chapter, input it and do some self-editing before handing the chapter off to my critique partners.
So anyway, why was HVD so difficult to write while Flames and Desire is appearing on the page as if my pen is enchanted?
I’m a pantser—which means I usually don’t have a clue about how the story will evolve. Of course I have a basic premise and know—because I write romance—that I’ll end with a Happily Ever After. In fact, I’ve had the idea for Flames and Desire kicking around the back of my mind for several years. Why didn’t I start it sooner is a story unto itself.
Because of that online class, His Virtual Diva was pretty much plotted which—I’m thinking now—took away some of the wonderful surprises I, as a pantser, love. Not that plots can’t change as the characters grow—they can and do. It’s just that neither my mind nor my Muse works that way.
So I’ve decided to leave plotting to the plotters. My Muse and I will continue to fly by the seat of our pants. Right now she’s telling me to hurry up and finish Flames and Desire. She has more stories for me to transcribe on her behalf. Like she’s the storyteller and I’m just a secretary!
I keep telling her that with storytelling—like making love—half the fun lies in the journey. She’s sulking a bit, but not too much. I’m hoping she’ll get over her snit pretty quick so we can get on with Flames and Desire and start my next Virtual Seductions series book and…
So many stories, so little time.
So here's a blurb and an excerpt from His Virtual Diva.
His Virtual Diva Blurb
Aloof composer-conductor Lamont Johansson (LJ) knows he’s grasping at straws trying to introduce opera to the Andromeda System. He’s certainly taking enormous financial risks. When the brilliant, erratic diva Daphne Basini arrives on Al Sufi—two weeks late—he finds he’s attracted to her and is amazed that her voice is the voice he’s been searching for all his life. Suddenly there is more at stake than a successful opera season. He’s risking his heart as well.
Deanna Basini’s arrival on Al Sufi is not at all what she expected. She’s supposed to hook up with her sister, Daphne, but Daphne has decamped again without notifying the opera company that hired her. And again, Deanna is forced to masquerade as her more famous, impetuous and sexually adventurous sister in order to save Daphne’s flagging career. Deanna’s resentment fades under LJ’s critical demands and encouragement. She finds her desire for him intensifying alongside the guilt she feels for deceiving him.
Daphne hasn’t been delayed by normal circumstances. Venus has taken over her body and is leading her through a whirlwind of sensual pleasures. When Daphne gains the upper hand and finally arrives on Al Sufi, she discovers she might not rescue her career, but with Venus’ help, she might push LJ and Deanna together.
Their passion for music brings Deanna and LJ together. Will deception drive them apart?
His Virtual Diva Excerpt
The first gentle brush of his lips sent melodies drifting through Deanna’s mind. Soon words followed. A kiss is just a kiss. But his were so much more. She could float forever in his kinds of kisses. So gentle. So playful. So…so very…
A sigh is just a sigh.
His sigh breathed need into her mouth. Hers soughed agreement as he turned her to face him. Her knees straddled his hips. Her mons pressed to his cock as they rubbed, eliciting sighs that grew more and more ragged. Yet he never changed the tempo. Even his tongue caressing hers maintained a sweetness she cherished. Persuasion…oh, yes. So much nicer than plundering. So much more in tune with his hands gliding under her sweatshirt. His fingertips plucked her furled nipples like a harpist playing slowly, building chords that tightened her entire body. She pulled off her sweatshirt, exposing her topless chest. She’d hoped for this, planned to make it easy to get naked.
“Your breasts…” As if unable to say another word, he cupped them both, then lapped each rigid nub. Flames arced between her nipples and her empty pussy. Her swollen clit throbbed, aching for his touch. Beyond conscious control, her hips rose and fell, settling when he unzipped his shorts and then freed his cock. With wiggles and grunts, they worked his shorts to his knees, sighing into each other’s mouth.
Against her lips he murmured, “Push your breasts together.”
She did, gasping as his tongue flicked each nipple in rapid succession. His clever fingers settled on her hips, but she could feel him toying with the narrow straps on her thong. His simultaneous continuing attention to her nipples made her laugh sound more like a moan. Multitasking was clearly in his lovemaking skill set.
“Do these clasps work?” he asked before sucking one peak into his mouth. Using his tongue, teeth and lips, he drove her speechless.
“Y-yesss,” she managed, arching her back as he transferred his attention to her other breast. She thought he said good, but was too intent on what his hands were doing to care.
She felt the clasps give, the slide of silk between her slick folds as he pulled off her thong, the heat of his body as he laid them both on the blanket. Panting, she wiggled her hips and, finally, had his cock almost where she wanted it.
“Not yet,” he murmured, bracing on his elbows. His silver gaze inched over her face as if memorizing every feature. His fingers followed with feathery touches along her brows, eyelids and nose. They tickled yet made her feel so cherished she sighed. Bypassing her lips, he traced her jaw and chin, the hollow in her throat, the shell of one ear. Every touch aroused her, yet left her boneless.
Sensing his unwillingness to hurry, she duplicated his patterns over his face. His bushy eyebrows felt silkier than they looked. The stubble on his cheeks and chin rasped in her palm, making her imagine whisker burns on her own face. Yet she hadn’t felt any scrapes because his kisses were so gentle. A bump in his nose had her kissing it as if it were a break she could heal with her lips.
