Sample Sunday: Staying True to My ‘Author’s Voice’

I re-write entire chapters numerous times in order to capture all vital elements with the best possible word combinations, while at the same time making sure I stay true to my ‘author voice’. That last one is the hardest. Invariably, I find myself noticing the humor of a situation. Love scenes pose special challenges, incorporating not only my off-beat humor, but also retaining tenderness and emotion between the main players

Here is a love scene excerpt from my WIP, Cold Feet Fever (scheduled for release in the spring of 2016). I hope you enjoy it. If you do, I would appreciate a comment, even a short one, to brighten my day.

Background: Katie, my sexually inexperienced heroine is finally free to date again without fear her partner will be murdered by a jealous crime lord. She’s eager to hit the jackpot in the form of her first orgasm, and has set her sights on Sam, a commitment-challenged playboy who, if rumors are true, knows his way around the female body. To protect her heart, she must stay detached; to pique Sam’s interest, she strives for sophistication.

“Look at me, Katie.” Sam tipped her chin using one finger. “Please?”

She did. And melted.

“We don’t need wine,” he said. “I want you to remember everything.”

At his kindness and understanding, her breath caught in her throat. “Oh …” Since the ability to speak had deserted her, she draped his shirt over a chair to dry.

“There’s no need to be nervous.” Using one of his magic fingers, he traced the shell of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “I’ll take good care of you.”

“I’m not nervous. Nope. Not at all.” Funny how her bones had melted.

She backed away. He followed until she found herself sandwiched between the counter and the delicious golden body she itched to stroke. And lick. And nibble—a tiny bit.

Okay, so she was experiencing physical arousal. Emotions played no part in her turmoil. Nope. She was nicely detached.

His blinding smile left her so dizzy she barely noticed when he snagged a lock of her hair and wound it around his finger.

“Let’s get rid of your dress.”

Her heart bounced around in her chest. “Um … sure. Why not?”

While he watched, his eyes heavy-lidded and sexy, she stretched behind her back and hunted for the zipper. Duh. She’d forgotten a narrow fabric fold, held in place by a zillion microscopic hooks, concealed the sucker.

“Let me help.”

“I’m fine.” She contorted her body while groping around, hoping the sweat beading her upper lip wasn’t visible. “These tiny fasteners are tricky.”

“I have excellent fine motor skills. Turn around and relax.”

“I am relaxed, dammit.”

Heat broiled her face as she presented her stiffened back to him. While his fingers dealt with the hooks, she worked on achieving a higher level of detachment, not to mention sophistication.

She was almost there when he said, “I love that you’re nervous.” His voice had roughened to a husky growl. “It makes what we’re about to do extra special.”

She twisted her neck to assess whether or not he was mocking her, and found herself staring at his mouth. Her breath hitched in her chest. “I might disappoint you.”

His fingers stilled. “Why on earth would you think that?”

“I … um … may not have the skill you expect in a date.”

After a long pause, he said, “Excuse me?” The two soft words reverberated in the quiet kitchen.

She chewed her lip, then said, “I’ve only done it twice, well two and a half times to be precise, and it didn’t work out so well.” She clamped her mouth shut. Luckily she’d caught herself before divulging her partner’s jackrabbit ejaculation.

Sam remained utterly still.

Afraid to turn around, she nodded. “Uh-huh. I was too young to realize it wasn’t normal. I thought it was my fault. There’s no need to worry, though. I’m sure I can satisfy your needs. I’m a self-trained expert on sexual gratification.”

Warm breath stirred her hair. “Self-trained?”

Had she said something wrong? “Yes. I’m a voracious reader. I’ve read tons of how-to books on sexual intercourse, everything from The Joy of Sex, to Kama Sutra.” She hoped her sincerity would reassure him.

“Katie—”

“I also studied the Fifty Shades Trilogy and other erotic novels. I have a subscription to Cosmo, too. There’s a huge amount of educational help available, so I’m certain I’m competent.” Was it her imagination, or did his fingers fumble?

“That’s, commendable and, uh, extremely proactive of you,” he said in a choked voice. “But right now, I’m as far from worried as a man can get.”

If you enjoyed my excerpt, a comment, no matter how short, would brighten my day.