Sometimes when you write something you don't fully understand why you are writing it. The Men of Station 57 series is that way for me. For one thing, the first book, Forbidden Fire was a really nifty romance. I really liked the story and I thought it had grip. My editor of the time loved it. And then I saw the cover for it and it hit me. It looked like the Harlequin series I'd grown up reading. And the light bulb went off, and I realized that was my reason. I wanted to try to write a story like that--albeit a lot sexier and edgier.
The Shy Dominant was about half written when I ran out of gas writing for a while. I'd go and look at it and think "that's a really appealing story, and I hate leaving it in the dust. It deserves better." But I was taking a time out so nothing happened until I began reading The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron and finished a crap load of stories and began new ones. Shy is a very sexy story, even more edgy than the first book. This time I wrote it for me. And I'm grateful to myself for finishing it.
To be honest, who knows if this series will take off...now. I have written a lot of stories and they've all taught me different lessons. My second book didn't do well initially but went on to be very popular over time. (That's Mask, if you are curious.)
I have the strongest feeling with this series that writing it is good for me. In the now, because it's what I want to do. In the future because...always good to have some stories you like all finished and ready to be discovered, hmmm?
Here's the opener from The Shy Dominant:
Dharma Munroe bent close to Fred James, smiling the same smile she greeted him with every morning at Coffee Dreams, the San Diego coffee shop where she worked for her best friend Sian as a barista. But this wasn’t the coffee house and she sure as hell wasn’t wearing the green T-shirt with the shop logo she sported there.
Instead she was dressed in a hot pink thong.
And nothing else.
Fred couldn’t keep from staring at Dharma’s bare breasts. They were generous and lush, the nipples large and dark coloured. Not the nipples of a twiggy little girl but an earth mother.
He swallowed and then jerked his gaze up to meet her slanted brown eyes, colour heating his cheeks. He shoved a hand through his hair, the mirror opposite at the bar catching the silver streaks in the dark blond.
As if he needed a reminder that he was in his mid-forties and this girl—and he could use the word very deliberately since Dharma was in her early twenties—was half his age.
And he lusted for her.
“What can I get you, Fred?” she asked in her usual chipper tone.
“Jesus, Dharma,” he growled.
“Sorry?” She blinked, as if she couldn’t figure out what his problem was.
Just then Fred caught a man at the bar eyeing Dharma’s shapely body, the olive toned skin she’d inherited from her Italian mother and the long, long killer legs. Rage burned through him like brush fire.
He got up from his chair and took Dharma’s arm firmly but with his usual gentle care with women.
“Fred!” She dragged her feet in her high scarlet heels, but he led her inexorably to the exit at the back. He hit the door and they were suddenly facing a red sun sinking like an island beyond the deserted beach.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, young lady?” Fred demanded as soon as the door slammed shut behind them.
Dharma blinked and then pushed some of her long brown hair out of her eyes. “Working.”
“Working,” Fred repeated flatly. “Is that what you call it, walking around in your underwear?”
Dharma looked down at her body and shrugged. “Well, one piece anyway.”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
Her eyes heated. “Yeah, I saw that.”
He blushed again, hoping she hadn’t guessed his first reaction at seeing her beautiful naked breasts. He’d wanted to reach out and cup them, since she seemed to be offering them to any man who sat down in the seedy bar.
“Fred, will you relax?” she said, punching his shoulder in a friendly manner. He couldn’t help but notice how the movement made her breasts jiggle. It was going to be interesting to see just how far his control would hold while he talked to the woman who’d intrigued him for months while she stood there half naked.
“Does Sian know you work here?” he demanded. He wanted to take off his T-shirt and cover her up. She looked so untouched and lovely, like a long- legged Venus.
“What?” She laughed. “Why would she care?”
His jaw tightened on the words he wanted to shout at Dharma. But he wasn’t as reckless as he’d once been, chasing fire. He’d been leading his people for a long time as a battalion chief. He’d learned to control his temper. “She would care because she’s your friend,” he said. “Surely she wouldn’t approve of you working in this place?”
Now her brown eyes snapped at him. “It’s not her business to ‘approve’ of what I do. Or yours.”
“Of course it’s not.”
She looked surprised at his easily capitulation.
“But that doesn’t mean anyone who cares about you and respects you, wouldn’t worry about you displaying yourself for men.”
“I serve drinks, same as I do at the coffee shop,” she said flatly. “But the tips here go a long way on my student loan. If men—or women—want to look at what the goddess gave me then let them look. It’s. No. Big. Deal.”
He looked away, studying some gulls hovering over the water. “It’s a big deal to me.”
Find The Shy Dominant for sale HERE.
