I was pleasantly surprised. I really liked it, and thought hey, I could turn this into a short novella pretty easily. So that is what I'm doing. I'm jumping into Contemporary Romance! It's weird stepping out of the era I'm used to, but also easier. Dialogue is a breeze when I don't have to worry about what a 19th century young lady might say. I can curse, something I do frequently in my day to day, and I can pull from own experiences.
My next thought was, do I publish it under Ella J. Quince, or give myself a new pen name for any contemporary works I might publish? I'm still thinking about that. I can probably finish it today if I can just get through this sex scene, but sex scenes are the things that my tired baby focused brain just doesn't comprehend right now. I don't even enjoy reading them like I used to.
I'm a romance writer who can't write romance/sex.
This phase better pass quickly. I used to live for those moments. Either on T.V, or in a book, I loved that fluttery feeling I got every time someone fell in love. I relive those moments. It's my drug of choice. Now I'm numb to it. I skip through sex scenes in books. Let me repeat, I SKIP THROUGH SEX SCENES IN BOOKS! Who does that? Not me, that's who. But I'm not me right now, I'm someone else. I feel things differently than I did before. I cry over things I didn't use to, and I'm numb about things I used to love.
Some might say this sounds like PPD, and maybe it is, but I don't find myself sad all the time, or unable to go about my daily life. I think of it more as a mental shift in priorities. My kids are my sun and I orbit around them. It doesn't help that after having a second baby I don't feel good about my body at all. Don't even get me started on how Dad Bod is a hot thing right now but Mom Bod isn't. I made two people in my body, but God forbid I have the rolls and stretch marks to show for it.
Rant over.
My novella is about a reclusive veterinary technician (sound like anybody you know? wink wink) who has three hunky firemen move in next door. Her saucy red head friend/ coworker convinces her to bust out of her shell and admit she likes the guy she claims she can't stand.
Without further adieu I introduce you to Cara and Dean in Flash Point
Coming soon!
I'm not ready to say this will be a series, but I am already thinking of giving the saucy red head friend her own book. Her name is Brianne, or Bri, as Cara calls her. She is afraid to give her heart away, but she is also really flirty and fun. The title of her book is Where There's Smoke. I just came up with that today, so that means I'm pretty much set on the novella, but don't ask me exactly when it's coming.
I have a soft yummy spot for firefighters. My husband is one, so that makes me a very proud firefighter wife. It's a tough job for both of us. My son is also obsessed with anything firefighter/fire engine. It was the theme of his baby bedding, so there may be some brainwashing going on. I can only hope (and fear a little) that he will follow in his daddy's foot steps.
That's all for now, folks. Cheers!
Ella
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