Vivacious Vixens of Romance Blog

Ms. Goodie Two-Shoes writes about Mr. Hot Pants….

Heart thumping, palms moist, she settles her shaky fingers on the keyboard.  Millions of thoughts run through her mind, those that aren’t very good…at least that’s what her momma had told her as a young girl.  Squeezing her eyes closed, pictures of half-dressed men float through her mind and her mouth turns dry.  SEX!  No, it couldn’t be time to write the sex scene, could it?  Her religious leader would certainly kick her out of church for fear of a bolt of lighting spearing down from heaven.  What about her parents?  Would her own husband disown her?  Her poor children would have to walk down the streets with their head ducked from now on.   But she’s a romance writer.  It needs to be written! She swallows the lump of fear lodged in her throat and takes a deep breath.  Once her eyes are open, she focuses on her story.  Reminding herself it’s a natural thing, she proceeds, her fingers fly across the keyboard as if they had a mind of their own.  His masculine scent of leather and spice fills the air, consuming every breath she takes.  In her head, the scene unfolds, the hero sweeps the heroine off into another world where seduction and passion rule.  Seeking fingers, curious kisses… The more she writes, the wider her grin spreads.  Her heart now beats a different rhythm.  Her palms are moist for entirely different reasons this time.  And in her chest…love grows.  This excitement is the thrill she needs –the energy that gives her the courage to continue and not be afraid. 

I don’t know about most writers, but I’ve certainly experienced this a time or two (or three or four) since I first started writing.  Those who don’t read romance stories label us as ‘smut’ writers.  All we think about is sex – twenty-four hours a day.  My husband tells me this numerous times…and it isn’t for flattery. <grin>  But there’s a bigger picture.  The overall picture that nobody sees but romance writers.  We aren’t writing about sex – we’re writing about love. 

HOWEVER…this doesn’t mean I’m not going to have sexual tension in my stories.  In fact, I live for sexual tension.  In one of my critique groups, I’ve been labeled Queen of Sex Scenes.  Even been called LoverLips.  Several of my reviewers call me Queen Of Sexual Tension. Should I be offended?  Heck no!  I’m thrilled!! Don’t tell my husband.  He’ll just roll his eyes again. <snort>

I write Sensual…don’t you just love that word?  It rolls across your tongue like a lover’s passionate kiss.  Makes you want to deepen your voice in a sexy tone, lower your lids half-mast and part your mouth.  Maybe even swipe your tongue across your dry lips… 

Okay, I’m getting carried away again.  I need to get back to the point here.  You can still be a Goodie-Two-Shoes and write about Mr. Hot Pants.  The characters you write about are real to you – and especially to your readers.  Write about your character’s feelings, about their hearts pounding like a tom-tom against their ribs.  Write about sweaty palms, shaky limbs, and out of control breathing.  Write about shivers of delight that cascade over your characters bodies.  Passionate tremors that seem to have a mind of their own…  And write about the glorious moment when your characters come together.  If you feel like religion should be added…then have one of your characters praise God at that point.  But the fact is – these feelings are real!  This is real life!  You’re not writing porn just because you’re writing a sex scene.  You’re writing about love.

And think of the alternative…  You could be writing about murder, killing, and torturing other humans.  <shivers>  Nah, not for me! 

I’ll stick to romance thank you very much!

~Vixen Phyllis~

I debated long and hard before writing this post. In my books I try to offer something of substance that’s positive. For instance in Her Eyes there is a thread regarding organ donation and I have links regarding why this is such an essential gift on my website. Until this week I didn’t think I had taken on domestic violence and I hadn’t. Not as strongly as I could have because mostly I write sweet-sensual romance, even in my romantic suspenses. I just don’t write that gritty. That said, in His Eyes I do take on the subject somewhat and my heroine does find a way past what her ex-husband did to her.

What got me started on this thread was something horrific that happened in my city this week. A few months ago a 9 year old girl was mowed down and killed in a cross walk while walking with her father by a 7 times convicted drunk driver. He flipped off the entire courtroom including the judge in his arraignment. The D.A. is going for a murder charge — our cit is still in mourning.

On the heels of that little girl’s death, last Sunday a young mother was murdered by her ex-boyfriend. He showed up on their daughter’s first birthday with a baseball bat and murdered her in their back yard. Then he took off with the baby. The irony is the police officer who caught him used to work in my city. The defense attorney wants to delay an hearings so emotions calm down. Emotions calm down? The man came into this city and killed a young mother on their child’s first birthday!

When I worked for the police department I took what calls from domestic violence victims. Some wanted restraining orders. Others knew they were merely pieces of paper that meant nothing because if they had to call the police in the first place, a piece of paper wasn’t going to stop the guy the next time. And yes, I know men can be victims of domestic violence too. I saw those cases come across my desk as well.

My paper had some starting results this weekend. Victims don’t want their names knows — justifiably so just in case the suspect comes looking for them, even with new identities.

In my county two of the three homicides were rooted in domestic violence.

In my county 88% of the 4500 cases filed in the past 5 years were for domestic violence.  88%!

Most suspects get off with a misdemeanor plea in family court. They get to go back out in no time at all and do it again. Sadly, it’s still considered a family and not a criminal matter.

Of added note is that 50% of the motor vehicles in my county last year were due to domestic violence.

 In 2008 the local advocacy group took approximatley 2000 calls. That’s an average of 5-1/2 calls a DAY for domestic violence.

It took a woman dying, a young mother’s murder, on her little girl’s first birthday to make the figures public in my county.

This past March, my contemporary romance, The Man Hunt, was released with The Wild Rose Press.  It’s still continuing to get great reviews…which is really a relief.  lol

Well, well, well. This is another one that I have to give snaps to. A Hot, Sexy, romantic story that will weave it’s way into your heart and soul. With characters who are very easy to relate to and fall in love with, it makes this story very well rounded. Very imaginative and well thought out, I had no trouble following along and laughing at a few of the funny things that happen along the way. I really got pulled in by both hero and heroine. I could easily feel the emotions driving them both. This is a great read that I will read again. and again. and………well you get the idea Who would have thought that a therapist could be as sexy as Ms. Campbell has made Jordon? And Brock? Well he is just a stud all the way around, no doubt about it. Congrats, Ms. Campbell, I look forward to reading more from you in the future.  At a reasonable $4.50 for 220 pages of total hotness, I found it totally worth every penny! ~~ Seriously Reviewed

Check out the awesome book trailer, too!

**excerpt**

Doctor Jordan Reed squinted and adjusted her eyes to the dimly lit bar. The Standard Examiner lay opened in front of her as she scanned the advertisement.

Woman seeking man for business partner. Must be charming and witty. Must be between thirty and forty-five and have acting ability. Call 1-800-777-4042 to arrange interview.

“Oh no! Erica, what have you done?”

Jordan focused on the little black letters that practically reached out and slapped her. She slumped forward, banged her forehead on the table, finally letting it come to rest on the opened newspaper. “Why? Why? Why?” she moaned.

Sitting across the table, Erica patted Jordan’s hand. “Don’t be mad at me. It’ll work out. I promise.”

“Oh, God, Erica! This makes me look desperate.” Jordan shook her head. Her forehead crinkled the paper. “Then again, maybe I am. I should be the patient instead of the psychiatrist.”

Erica laughed. “Will you stop worrying? I told you, everything will be just fine.”

Jordan raised her head just enough to look at her friend. Yeah right. “How many people do you think are going to read this ad? How many people will actually take it seriously? Damn, Erica, what kind of woman hunts for a man by taking out an ad in the newspaper, especially in my profession? That’s what people are going to think and don’t say they won’t.”

Erica shrugged her thin shoulders. “You’ve been hurt. People will understand…at least the right people will. And I don’t think you need help. All you need is—”  She bit her bottom lip and drew her brows together.

Jordan straightened and looked at her friend. “What do I need?”

The corner of Erica’s mouth lifted into a smirk. “It’s like I told you before, all you need is a good romp in the sack. That will cure all your problems.”

“Oh Lord.” Jordan rolled her eyes and thumped her head back on the table. Pain exploded like a cannon in her skull. She yelped.

Erica touched Jordan’s head. “Are you all right?”

“I will be after my head stops pounding.”

Erica chuckled and scooted across her seat. “I’m going to get our drinks. What do you want?”

“Nothing. I need a clear head to finish the work day, especially now that I’ve seen the havoc you’ve caused.”

“Okay, no vodka. How about soda and water?”

“That’s fine.”

Jordan worked her hands between her head and the newspaper and massaged her aching skull. How could it have come to this? Sure, Erica was only thinking about her, but an ad in the newspaper? Oh, God! Still, desperate times called for desperate measures. Didn’t they? She’d been without a man since Kenneth left. Kenneth, the man she thought she’d spend the rest of her life with. The man who broke her heart when he married her wealthy stepmother. And now they were coming for a visit. Like she wanted to see him. No way she’d let either of them see her without a man.

As much as she wanted to yell and cuss at her secretary for placing the ad, Jordan had to admit hiring someone to portray her boyfriend wasn’t a bad idea. Especially since she was running out of time.

Humiliation spread through her at the thought of Kenneth discovering how much he’d hurt her two years ago. Especially after he laughed in her face and told her she’d never have another relationship. Then again, he always thought he was God’s gift to women. Oh how she wished her stepmother hadn’t gone against her advice and married the jerk anyway. Not that she blamed her stepmother. Kenneth had been so conniving and convincing. It made Jordan ill just to think of it.

A warm hand touched her shoulder, before the intoxicating scent of male spice lured her from her thoughts. “Excuse me, miss. Are you all right?”

Why did everyone ask her that? She huffed, ready to give the stranger a set down if he thought she was an easy pick-up, and raised her head. She sat up, turned toward the intruder, and opened her mouth to speak. The words got lost. It took a minute to remember to breathe.

Absolutely gorgeous!

His freshly-shaven, square jaw emphasized his slightly pointed nose and highlighted a beautiful smile. Dreamy! Sexy! Even in the smoke-filled shadows of the bar, Charlie’s Passion, his dark hair grabbed her attention – cut short and slicked back, just the way she liked.

His eyes hypnotized her. Because of the shadows, she couldn’t detect a color, but it was as if his wide, radiant eyes saw right through her. For a moment, she caught a glimpse of a wild wolf lurking in their depths.

She shivered and blinked a few times to see if the image disappeared. Was she dreaming, or was there really a man so incredibly good-looking, so incredibly sexy in this bar?

“Miss? You all right?” he spoke again, mentally shaking her from her stupor.

She nodded. “I was just…hmmm, well…” She glanced down at the wrinkled paper. “I was reading the paper.”

His smile widened, and he slid into the seat beside her. His eyes drifted to her head. “With your forehead?”

She chuckled and rubbed the still smarting tender spot. He brushed her fingers away. Heat from his skin pierced through her like a lightening bolt.

“There’s something on your forehead.” When he leaned closer, his rock-hard chest bumped her shoulder. Warmth spread through every limb right down to her toes. His raspberry colored tongue peeked over his lip, just as he slid his thumb across it. When he lifted his hand to rub off the mark, she couldn’t take her eyes off his face. The liquid heat on his thumb burned her skin like molten lava, making her insides tremble.

“The paper left its mark on you.”

She swallowed hard. Not just the paper left its mark, so had he.

To purchase paperback – http://www.amazon.com/Man-Hunt-Phyllis-Campbell/dp/160154085X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1242579622&sr=1-1

To purchase ebook – http://www.thewildrosepress.com/the-man-hunt-p-1185.html?zenid=aae33f247ae3870c9a0b1ce2796d1450

Or at Fictionwise – http://www.fictionwise.com/ebooks/eBook85315.htm

~~Vixen Phyllis~~