No, not the New Directions of Glee. Although, they are pretty awesome. You know, for a ton of professionals pretending to be amateurs, that is. Can you guess what I mean? Of course you can. You’ve read this blog more than once, lol.
Of course I have changed directions again. It’s so ridiculous. I spent all that time working on creating an outline. I wrote like 40,000 words. And I realized the sequence of events did not make ANY sense. And I know why. I’m not much of a planner. I’m not much of a pantser either as that never gets me anywhere. I’m somewhere in between – is that a plantser? Whatever.
So, I stopped what I was doing and sat myself down with the Seven Story Beats as outlined by Kaye Dacus. I love that site. If you write romance, I suggest you check her out. It’s worth it.
As I sat down and focused just on these necessary points in the story, I realized I was no longer in love with the setting or the story itself. Now, I have seven beats that can logically be connected to each other.
I have one beat left to write (yeah, I’m writing out of order. it’s awesome), and that is the final scene – Joyful Defeat. I will probably knock that out tomorrow.
So far, the best part of this has been how other scenes have naturally shown their necessity. I love that – nothing forced.
But, I promised some friends a teaser. So, here is a snippet.
“What are you going to do about her, then? Will you really marry someone you believe helped plan Phin’s death?”
“I will marry her because I have to, but that is it. The day after tomorrow, she will be on her way to the Welsh coast, back to Blackpool Estate. She will live there until she dies, but I will never set eyes upon her again.”
“What about heirs?”
He really meant to ship her off to some mouldering estate? Of course he did. He truly hated her just that much. Stifling the tears that threatened to overwhelm her, Helena attempted to sneak back up to her room only to run into a small table by the library door. With a cry, she fell to the ground.
“What was that, Blackpool? I believe the library might have grown ears.” Footsteps sounded then, growing closer as the men came into the library from the hall.
“Well, this is interesting. I do hate to miss this, but I believe my bed finally calls. A pleasure, Miss Billings,” the blond haired man said. This must be Freddy.
“Did I not tell you to not invade my private space, madam?” Anger radiated from the duke. As Helena looked up at him, she could see the haze pulsing around him, coating his aura in a viscous red.
“I – I needed something to read, sir. I could not sleep.” Helena hated the sound of her voice, faint and pleading. She owed this man no explanation. He could not barr her in her rooms, keep her prisoner.
“I told you this is not your home. No one invited you to make yourself comfortable. I begin to believe my original assumptions were correct. You are simple.”
Leaning over, Blackpool grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her up. His touch was rough, almost brutal, and still, her traitorous skin revelled at the touch. Her pulse quickened, heart thumping against her chest. Butterflies tickled at her stomach, tingles going lower. This was lust. How could she lust after such a brute? Did he feel the same?
The duke did not appear to be similarly affected when she looked at him through lowered lashes. As soon as she was steady, he dropped her arm like it burned his skin. He refused to look at her, instead staring at some point just beyond her, to the left.
“I suppose you heard everything, creeping around in the dead of the night? Were you hoping to find something to steal? What were you really doing in here?”
Helena was incensed. She could not allow this man to continue to treat her so cruelly. They would be connected for life soon, whether either of them wanted it or not.
“Which is it to be, sir. You can only use one insult, so pick one. Am I a fraud, a whore, a murderer, or a thief? I tell you once more: I was merely looking for a book to read. I fell asleep in the chair.”
“Where, then, is this book you came for?”
“I put it back before attempting to leave the room in the dark. That is when I hit this table and fell.”
“Damn you, Miss Billings. I want nothing to do with you, do you not understand that? How dare you stand here before me claiming innocence while looking so inviting.” With no warning, the duke had once more grabbed her arm, this time to pull her into a crushing embrace.
Certain the pressure would leave her lips bruised and purple the next day, Helena tried to pull away. As she pulled away, the duke pulled her closer. The touch of his lips grew gentle and then his tongue was working its way into her mouth. And she caved. Allowing every bit of lust she had felt since first she lay eyes upon him, Helena melted into his kiss, meeting each thrust of his tongue with one of her own.
I hope you like it.