Wicked Wednesday with Barbara Meyers
|My latest release, A MONTH FROM MIAMI, has a couple of love scenes in it. There I’ve said it. The word is out! There is a humorous/serious warning label on the back of the book, so if you don’t want to read a heartwarming story of love and new beginnings about a couple of unattached adults who live in the United States of America, who are over the age of 21, and yes, God forbid, they enter into a sexual relationship without benefit of marriage, then DON’T READ THIS BOOK!
Oh, no, I’m not sensitive about this subject, am I? My previous two romantic comedies were slashed by the publishing house I sold them to, which published wholesome fiction for the library market. I had to take all the good stuff out, the realistic stuff that happens in contemporary society between two consenting adults. Yes, I sold out.
I wanted to be published (this was six or seven years ago), to get my foot in the door, and so I did what I had to do to get those books in print.If you like sweet, funny romance, where the characters are allowed to hold hands and little else, read HIDDEN ASSETS or TRAINING TOMMY.
If you want something a bit hotter, and more realistic, read A MONTH FROM MIAMI. It’s very much the book I wrote, and I love that. Input from my editor did nothing but make it a better book. I wasn’t expected to cut out love scenes that seemed right for my characters and for the times in which they live.
Are love scenes necessary to a good romance novel? Probably not. A lot of “sweet” romance is published so one must assume there’s an audience for it. People like my mother and my elderly aunts—they don’t want to read about people having an intimate relationship, no matter how well-written the love scenes are (like mine).
And oh, do I hear about this. My mother, who’s in her 70’s, goes out of her way to let me know she disapproves. Good thing I wasn’t looking for her approval when I sold the book, huh? I’m sure some of my romantic bend came from years of watching the soap operas she tuned into daily when I was a child. I loved the stories, the drama, the twisted plots, the things that love made people do.
What I also love is a happy ending. After the drama and the misunderstandings, the conflict and the mistakes, I want to know that love conquers all. A MONTH FROM MIAMI is a temporary escape from reality for today’s woman, much like those soap operas my mother watched to escape from her daily routine. Now, I ask you, what’s wrong with that?
Samhain Author Page:http://samhainpublishing.com/authors/barbara-meyers
Web Site: http://www.barbmeyers.com
Excerpt from A MONTH FROM MIAMI
“How do you like it?” she asked.
She was standing in front of him, combing his hair over his forehead which put him at about eye level with her bustline. “I like it. Very much.”
She glanced down as he grinned up at her. She was blushing. She blushed more than any woman he’d ever known. She moved behind him. “I meant your hair.”
“Any way you like it.”
“Not too short, I suppose.”
“No one’s ever complained that it’s too short.”
“It’s pretty thick.”
“You’re the expert.”
“How long has it been?”
“About twenty-four hours.”
“Since your last haircut?”
“Oh. Couple of months, I guess.”
“It grows fast.”
“Under the right circumstances.”
“Rick…” There was a definite strain in Kaylee’s tone. “Don’t make this harder than it is.”
Rick squirmed uncomfortably, not sure if it was Kaylee’s close proximity or his own double entendres, but he was definitely turned on. “I think it’s too late.”
“I’m cutting now. Sit still and stop talking.”
Could there be anything more intimate than having a lover’s hands in your hair, Rick wondered. Well, of course, there could be, but Kaylee’s hands in his hair were conjuring up all sorts of images of her hands elsewhere on his body. It was exquisite torture to have her so close, yet hardly touching him. He followed her movements as best he could while he kept his head still. He gazed at her elbow, her breasts where they strained against the cotton of her sleeveless top.
Snip. Snip. Snip. Wisps of his hair floated to the floor as she worked in a silence broken only by the low hum of country music from the radio which sat on top of the refrigerator.
She moved around him from side to side, concentrating on the haircut. Then she moved in front of him and bent closer, combing his hair, visually examining it on either side of his head until her gaze met his.
“Could you, uh, spread your legs?”
Rick did so and she straightened and stepped between them. She raised her arm and the hem of her top rose with the movement of her shoulder, revealing her tiny waist and her navel. How much torture could one man take?
Rick couldn’t help himself. He placed his hands around her waist beneath her top. Her skin felt like warm satin. How well he remembered the feel of her skin against his. He breathed in her scent along with the faint aroma of grape-flavored bubble gum.
He leaned forward, lifted her top and skimmed his lips across her stomach.
Danielle’s Weird Question of the Day:
If you could be anyone who existed in the world, who would you be?
I’d be my daughter or someone like her. I’d like to know what it would be like to have a mother who loved, supported and encouraged you while you were growing up. I’d like to know what it feels like to have a mother who’s also your best friend, a mother who gets you and did from the day you were born. I’ve always wondered who I might have been or how I might be different if I hadn’t had to spend so much time trying to figure out why I wasn’t acceptable the way I was and looking for approval from others. What if I’d been assured it was okay to be me from day one? What might I have accomplished by now?