The Change

No, I’m not referring to hot flashes. I’m talking about the moment when a heroine realizes she has room to grow. Perhaps she’s misjudged the hero, or learned that she can handle a gun or roomful of snarky snobs. There comes in every story, a moment when the heroine comes to a life-changing peak in her journey. We read for it. We wait for it. We live for it. Why? Because we can identify. Even if we haven’t gone through the trauma or joy of these moments, we know we might someday.

I think Elizabeth Bennet said it best when she observed, “Until this moment, I never knew myself.” If that doesn’t put a knot in your throat, you’ve never screwed up a relationship or a major chapter of your life. (So the time is probably ripe!)

Falling in love with a heroine is a platonic journey for most of us (grin). We love to read about women we either want to be, or would like to be friends with. Even those we don’t care for initially, we want and almost need for them to change.

A great heroine doesn’t have to be beautiful or have special powers. All we need is for her to conquer, and if that means conquering herself, then all the better. For some of us, empowerment is finding the man of our dreams. For others, it’s grabbing one by the collar and giving him a good shake until he sees straight. No matter how fanciful, the (romance) books we seek out reflect our life experiences or desires. By living through a heroine we can relate to, we may just find the courage to become more than we ever knew we could.

Writing TURTLE SOUP, my new release from Awe-Struck Books, I found myself thinking about my heroine a lot. Sara Hart is just plain average. She isn’t super talented or super hot, and she doesn’t carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. Sara simply enjoys helping people and doing her part to make the world a better place. I found that letting her have her dream--a deli in downtown Atlanta--when the story opened, allowed room for her to grow as a person throughout the story. Since she already had the accomplishment, the question became, how much did she really want it? What would she be willing to sacrifice in order to experience something new and unknown?

Believe it or not, those were questions in my own life I needed to answer.

Reading about a heroine is one thing. Writing, or creating a heroine is quite another. You can’t get mad and throw the book down. I had to journey along with Sara as she came to a critical point in her career, and I ached with her, too. Her courage and success were something we shared together. I was given hope. I was made braver. Heroines give us that. Isn’t it a part of why we love to read?

Both writing and reading TURTLE SOUP gave me something to smile about, but in many ways it meant so much more. I took one more baby step forward in conquering myself. And I couldn’t have done that without a heroine leading the way.

So here’s to your favorite heroine. And here’s to you, simply for having the courage to understand that we all have room and the capacity to change.

~daniellethorne

NEW THIS WEEKEND!!: TURTLE SOUP

http://www.awe-struck.net/


Author’s Website: www.daniellethorne.jimdo.com

Author’s Blog: www.thebalancedwriter.blogspot.com

On Twitter: @DanielleThorne

Sheriff Kalypso Sun Wing ~ Last Words, Maybe...

Pic from ~ http://psdrockstar.com ~

Carefully, Kalypso unfolded the old, 20th century notebook paper. The pages were stained by time, by her tears and by blood because her fingertips had cracked in the winter cold. Heaving in a breath, she read her opening words.

These are my last words, maybe...

Compelled to read what she’d written during the height of the Conflicts, Kalypso sank down into her favorite sunset-watching chair. Automatically, she opened her arm for Rhiannon. She was always the first one of Kalypso’s dogs to jump up for a cuddle.
“Guess what, gang,” she addressed the seven other doggie faces alertly gazing at her. “I’m now the Sheriff of fair New Atlantis. How that happened, I’m not exactly certain. Except someone has to do the job, right? And I am damn good with weapons.”

Bringing the pages to eye level, Kalypso sighed down to her soul and felt a sharp twist of pain. She’d realized decades ago, the agonies of her life would never leave. They would remain with her for as long as she lived, now much longer than she’d ever anticipated. She’d figured her life was over when the Death Monopoly, as it was called, had announced itself to the world. Like the most ruthless and bloodthirsty mafia they had surfaced and declared rule over the entire planet.

I will not survive for much longer. There are so many ways to die. Diseases ravish populations all over the world. However, I may have the last horrible laugh. I’m sixty plus and my immune system is shot. The designer ebola flus attack the youngest and those who remain the healthiest.
Yep, for a war against the people this is one of the Death Monopoly’s smartest tactics.
I’ve already survived horrors and trials I could never have imagined going through. So many I won’t list them here. It would take too much of my strength.
I have no idea if my sisters, my brother and their children are still alive. Or if these scrawled words will ever reach any of them.
Daniel will yell at me for using one of our few ballpoint pens. I hardly care, except if it is eventually needed for our survival.
I am alone. Inside our cave headquarters. I need to write. I need something to take my mind off whether or not those I love and depend on, are coming back. If they are all coming back alive. I never know. None of us ever knows.
Unless we do because of a premonition, a precognitive dream.
It’s warm enough if I keep several layers of clothing on, despite the brutal winter we’re having. I pray everyday the winter storms continue for our sake. Some say an Ice Age has arrived. Though, the reports over the short wave radio suggest it is a mini Ice Age. For all I care it can snow until hell freezes over. The Fed troops have been slowed or stopped from hunting us.
I believe we have survived because of divine grace only. How can it be any other way? I’ve seen many miracles occur over the course of a lifetime. But they can’t be counted on as I’ve discovered. What it means that we are still alive, that I am still alive, I don’t know. I’m too tired to know and my faith has long since deserted me.
A couple of years ago while foraging we found this system of caves. We are near the monstrous limestone caves once used for commercial storage in the midwest of what was the United States of America. They are now used by the Brown Shirts to dole out meager supplies to those who are trapped in the cities and the camps.
The search for food is endless, every morsel more precious than ammunition now. Daniel made me stay here on the pretext of listening for radio contact. I’m slightly feverish. No worries about it being The Contagion. I would be dead by now.
I’ve prayed for the angel of death, often enough. I’ve laid down to die because I could no longer move from sheer exhaustion. There’s not much of anything anymore that keeps me going. It’s only because I care about the group I’m with... and they can’t cook all that well. Sometimes, I’m able to heal them with touch. But, only sometimes. I dare not say their real names in case this reaches enemy hands.
I think what keeps me going, too, is my rage. I don’t feel it all that often. Just surviving uses up all my energy. Emotions have become a luxury. I just know it’s there, an inner rage so fierce at what the Death Monopoly is doing to all of us human beings on Earth, that I will do anything I can to stay alive. Just in defiance. I’m stubborn that way.
I’ll have to quit now. The ink is running out.

Kalypso lowered the ratty pages, tears flooding her eyes. Making no attempt to suppress them, she reached for the tiny, beaten-up tin box. Re-folding the pages, she stuffed them inside and squeezed the lid down tight.
“A few more tears added, huh?” She gave her doggies a wan smile, then let Rhiannon kiss a few of them away.
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HAPPY END OF SUMMER

~ MAY ALL YOUR READING DREAMS COME TRUE ~

Savanna Kougar

~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
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~~~ Kalypso & Zryphus invite you to read their love story ~ a match made in intergalactic heaven ~~~

MURDER BY HAIR SPRAY IN GARDENIA, NEW ATLANTIS ~ 2051 suspense futuristic, erotic romance ~ American Title IV finalist ~ One hundred years later Sheriff Kalypso despises relationships. Zryphus has found his one woman. The Battle of the Sexes begins. Rising from Siren-BookStrand ~ the future begins here... ~ IN PRINT ~ http://bookstrand.com/authors/savannakougar ~ ISBN: 1606011472
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Generational Heroines

Grandma was among the first women in America to earn a Master’s degree. Teaching for many years before then, beginning in a one room school house, marrying and moving to a three story school house teaching fifth grade, then again to the next town where she made an incredible mark as first grade teacher, she also raised four children, studying at night after their needs were met. She graduated with her Master’s in Education the same year her oldest child graduated with his Bachelor’s degree.

A strong woman, yes. Not many dared cross her. Yet she had the gentle fun artsy silly side that made her such a wonderful teacher. There is now a memorial tree and marker planted in her honor at her final school, also my grade school.

She has a son and three daughters. I grew surrounded by all of them and their spouses and children. It was a delightful time of noise, wide discussions, gift exchanges, birthday cakes, and little ones running around everywhere. Family was penultimate in my childhood. It was also highly inspirational.

I’m a people watcher. I always have been. I think it could be because there was just so MUCH variety to watch in one house where we all gathered each birthday and holiday. Think of an artist’s colony except with all ages, and you’ll have a feel for it.

The women in my family were always particularly fascinating and each was a heroine in her own right. The styles were different but whatever the style, things seemed to revolve around them individually, more so than with the men. No offense meant to the men but I come from a very long history of strong independent women. Kudos to the heroes who could deal with them long-term. ;-) We have gutsy women who will say whatever they think and those who will hardly admit any feelings; in charge types and followers; women who love to be out and about and on the go and those more like hermits; some have reached what they went after, others are still trying for it or content with what they did accomplish; some went to school to study and some to socialize. Whichever type(s) they are, they have one common characteristic: they  are strong women. Their strength may not be obvious to the casual observer. Sometimes you have to look deep and try to see it the way they do. And they’re family, part of a chain, intertwined.


My heroines always come with family connections, and the way their families affect them comes out in their individual choices and outlooks. They are always strong, but their strength is often quiet and supportive more than feisty and independent. They tend to have highly independent female friends or relatives they admire, and they grow throughout the book, learning to assert their own independence with age and experience.

My heroines stem from reality. We all know that older women are much more likely to appear stronger and more together and less worried about appearances and the shallow things of life. We do grow. So far, all of my heroines begin as young women at that age of emergence, so to speak. Their stories begin at the point they’re truly beginning to come into their own and the reader always sees how they do, what encourages it.

I go a step farther with the concept of growth and family and intertwining in my Rehearsal series. Beginning when Susie is barely twenty, it extends over four books to after she has fully grown and found herself and become comfortable with her place in the chain. It covers more than ten years. Her family is involved throughout, as is her hero’s family and her best friend’s family. Even the minor characters have familial involvement enough to see where they came from and where they’re heading. The sequel to the series is firmly in my head and checks in on the next generation, connecting the effects of Susie’s generation on her daughter’s. Susie is not a highly independent, outgoing type.  Her daughter, however, is fully both. Their stories will mesh, and continue. While Susie’s mother’s story is only touched on in the series, it will likely become its own.

Whether or not the heroine is the strongest and most vivacious character, she is always the center of my stories, even if she has no POV scenes. We don’t need to direct the stage to be pivotal or the main draw, after all. Sometimes it’s simply what we are that steals the show, and what we are is always affected not only by our parents but by the generations of our families.

Do you have a truly inspirational woman in your family who could be a heroine? I’d love to hear about her!

LK Hunsaker
  

Linda Swift: Single Status

Congratulations, Lindsay, on your One Lovely Blog awards. They are justly deserved.

And thank you for choosing a subject that has made me pause and give thought to what deeper motives lurk behind the type of heroes and heroines that I create. I found it easy to define what makes a man a hero. But I find that I am more demanding of the traits that make a woman a heroine.

Her physical appearance must be pleasing. I tend to choose some shade of blond hair, tall, graceful, thin, and of course, young. None of the traits I possess and all of which I covet. She must be beautiful, which doesn't mean pretty. Beautiful women are often plain-featured but have that certain arresting quality that defies description.

I want a heroine to be calm, charming, and courageous with a wry sense of humor. No Nervous Nellies, nitpickers, or doormats need apply. Nor any Poor-little-ole-me types even if they change as the plot develops. And she must be totally lovable in the eyes of the hero. She must be good (not Goodie-Two-Shoes),honest, kind, and loyal. Sounds like a Girl Scout, doesn't she? And I almost forgot to mention intelligent. She may be smarter than the hero but would have the good sense not to show it.

Most important of all, my heroine must have traits that appeal to women. For only if other women would choose her as a friend, can she be the kind of person who is truly self-actualized and worthy to be called a heroine in my book (pun intended)

When I examine my heroines by this standard, they don't always measure up but most of them fit the description fairly well. Take B.J., the heroine in my soon-to-be released book, Single Status. She has all the physical characteristics mentioned above, and all the personality traits listed except for charm. And a former husband who was an insensitive jerk is responsible for her abrasive reactions toward the male species at present. Instead of seeking pity, B.J. takes on a challenge that demands her all. Since this is a romance, I don't need to tell you that she overcomes every obstacle, but I hope you will enjoy reading how she does it.



Title: Single Status

Genre: Contemporary

Winner of Awe-Struck Short Novel Award 2008

Author: Linda Swift

www.lindaswift.net

Publisher: Awe-Struck Publishing

Available: September 25, 2009 E-book and print

Buy Link: http://www.awe-struck.net/


Through a stateside headquarters mix-up, B.J. and Dana are forced to share a villa on a start-up job in a power plant in St. Croix. B.J. is determined to prove herself as capable as the other engineers and wants to be treated like one of the guys. But Dana finds it difficult to follow her wishes.


Excerpt:

Just three more days, B.J. reminded herself with grim determination as she adjusted the straps of her backpack and joined her house-mate for the ride to work. Then their only contact would be at the plant when changing shifts and that would be strictly business.

"My turn mornings," she held out her hand for the keys Dana had already taken from the counter.

"Sorry," he mumbled as he handed them over and picked up his lunch box.

B.J. hadn't carried one since the day she'd found the dead lizard, preferring to manage with whatever food could be kept in her backpack without spoilage rather than giving Dana Thomas a chance to repeat his nasty surprise.

The air in the villa had been frigid the past four evenings in spite of the tropical heat as Dana and B.J., without verbal discussion, had worked out a system of avoidance. He ate dinner while she showered, she moved to the kitchen and he claimed the bath. He watched the evening news while she did her personal laundry, hanging it in her room. She remained there, studying prints spread on her bed, sometimes tempted to ask him to explain something that was unclear but stubbornly resisting the impulse.

One evening he had gone to the pool and images of the night she had lost herself in his arms filled her head. She could still feel his mouth on hers and his body pressed against her. Only fate had prevented them from making a terrible mistake. But to resort to putting a dead lizard in her lunch because she had refused to continue their folly after she'd come to her senses had been pathetic.

She turned the ignition and gunned the car out of the parking space and down the steep hill with a vengeance, then sensibly slowed when she reached the highway. She heard the man beside her give a barely audible sigh of relief and saw his feet, which had been planted firmly on the floorboard, visibly relax.

"Glad you got that, whatever it was, out of your system, Sutherland," he growled.

"The only systems you need concern yourself with at the moment are at ChemCorp, Thomas," she retorted.

"I'll concern myself with the performance of any system that threatens my safety, Sutherland."

"Oh, you're perfectly safe with me, Thomas," she said with exaggerated emphasis.

Her double-entendre was not lost on Dana and he was left with no suitable repartee that would not get him into deeper waters so he remained silent for the remainder of the drive.

From the corner of his eye, Dana watched the obstinate woman behind the wheel. The early morning sun cast a golden glow on her fine-featured face and he felt a sudden urge to reach out and stroke the back of her arched neck--after he wrung it--for doubting his denial of pulling that cruel prank on her. That she thought him capable of doing a thing like that was insulting enough but refusing to accept his word that he had not was the last straw. The past few days had been full of tension and he was looking forward to the time when their evenings playing house together were over. Monday couldn't come too soon.

Linda

Deadlier than the male?

There is a good deal of wish-fulfilment in my heroines. Firstly their characters tend to be far braver, more patient, generous and caring than I am. Secondly, in their roles they often 'act out' roles I would love to try myself. My heroines are opera singers, wildlife photographers, healers, scribes, princesses, expert seamstresses, bull-leapers, and metal-smiths. Life may be tough but they are resilient and intelligent. They may doubt and self-question, but I try to make them full of life. Vitality is attractive where rampant self-pity can quickly become tiresome in a character in a story.

I throw challenges in the way of my womenfolk. In my historical romances they may struggle with their position in society - Flavia, in Flavia's Secret is a slave, Sarmatia, in Bronze Lightning is a bull-leaper who is growing old for the dangerous ritual, Sunniva in A Knight's Captive is bullied by her father and brothers and, as a woman in 1066, she has limited options.

That is something I always try to bring out in my historicals: women, even princesses, were more tied by biology than modern women are. In a pre-pill or effective contraception era, then a woman could become pregnant each time she made love. If she earns her living as a tumbler, then if she is pregnant she might starve. Society in many ages has been anti-women: the medieval age saw women as prone to evil and devilish desires.

My women are not super-women. They are normal, with the hopes and yearnings that are theirs. I hope to make them appealing and loveable so my readers with follow them on their hero journey, as they strive to achieve their goals.

One heroine of mine who is a little larger-than-life is Bride, the metal-smith and warrior from my ancient world historical romance, Bronze Lightning. She is tall, strong as a man, skilled in bronze-making and fighting. (She came into my mind many years ago, pre-Xena Warrior Princess, with whom she shares many skills!)

Alyson, my learned, clever heroine from A Knight's Vow, is always curious. Flavia has two deadly secrets, either of which could cost her her life. Lydia needs to escape an impossible situation and a loveless marriage in Escape to Love. Corinna is faced with a terrible choice in my forthcoming Silk and Steel.

Another heroine who is not to be crossed is my golden Egyptian princess from 'Blue Gold'. Here's an excerpt from Blue Gold, showing my amoral heroine - anti-heroine - in action:

Hunting bored Ahhotpe, but since Zoser—the Pyramid, as she’d nicknamed him—had been commanded to attend Sekenenre, she had been obliged to inveigle an invitation for herself. It would be entirely predictable of Zoser to try to advance his position and fix himself firmly in his father’s favor. That she was determined to prevent. She would discredit the Pyramid and his fat cow of a mother forever.

Ahhotpe glanced at the wax manikin before smoothing down the papyrus sheet with her gold burnisher and reaching for her palette. As a pastime she enjoyed writing. The hieratic script, precise and beautiful, flowed from her pen.

“Ahhotpe to her father’s mother, Tetisheri, in life, prosperity and health.” Formal greetings over, Ahhotpe indulged a little gossip. “The Pyramid’s mother is here, of course, waddling into Sekenenre’s tent with a lotus flower stuck behind one ear, like a great white duck in a reed bed. She looks quite a meal for a crocodile.”

Leaving it at that, Ahhotpe passed onto other matters, details concerning the state of her clothes in these humid marshes, and lavish praise of her father’s hunting prowess. She was fond of grandmother, and tried to show the old lady her gentlest side, the side she kept for dependents and servants.

Ahhotpe shot a second glance at the wax figure posted just inside the doorway of her tent. Noon was not the most propitious time for magic, but the midday heat ensured that her people were resting and that consequently she would be unobserved. When she saw the shaft of sun chink through the closed tent flaps and strike the figure, the young woman laid aside her letter.

She had fashioned it well, rolling and mashing the wax between her fingers, infecting it with her hatred, until a startling likeness formed. That same narrow forehead and wide jaw, the bull neck and broad chest, the wider hips and massive legs: the Pyramid in miniature, three fingers high. Ahhotpe smiled as she settled cross-legged before the model. It was, she thought, the closest she might ever come willingly to Zoser. Invoking the proper forms, she thrust the first small copper pin deep into the manikin’s heart.

I had a lot of fun writing Ahhotpe!

Best wishes, Lindsay

The Women-in-Charge in Chelle's novels

A woman can do anything - that was how my parents raised me. They also believed that a woman could be feminine and still not be weak. Society, though, through the years hasn't always agreed.

I try to write my heroines to reflect both my parents' progressive attitude as well as reality in our world.

None of my heroines actually needed a man in their lives - oh of course the passion is a terrific incentive, but each of my gals could make it on their own.
In Bartlett's Rule Paige Andrews was raised in a misogynistic and violent household. Her upbringing caused her to make several wrong decisions, the first being needing a man named Hal to take her away from her parents' abusive home. She traveled a road of self-destruction and hit bottom, that was when she decided to take control of her life and began taking care of herself. When she met Lon Bartlett she tried not to get taken in by his seeming chauvinism, but he proved to be much more understanding than she expected.

Caitlyn Smythe in Forgotten was orphaned at an early age and even though she was raised in a relative's loving home, she thought that the only one she really could depend on was herself. When Brandon Price tries to protect her with secretiveness, she balks. Even totally angry with him when they are both held against their will, it's Caitlyn's calm head that eventually rescues them. Through the ensuing perils they face Brandon comes to realize how much he can depend on her.

Alli Davis is a lawyer in Within the Law and she takes her job seriously. Tom Hughes was her white knight on a dark city street and Alli is drawn to him, but not enough to compromise her responsibility even when she realizes that the man she is defending stole Tom's future from him. When the playing field changes and her client is murdered Alli steps in to defend Tom.

Young Davida Prescott is working her way through college when she meets playboy Adam Sherman in Courage of the Heart. Adam has a past that makes him question his own abilities and it is Davie's inner strength that restores his confidence. Her belief in him gives him the strength to get him past a threat and huge challenge from his former life.

In Final Sin Julie Jennings is a caring and competent paramedic. She meets Deputy Sheriff Jake Carlson at a horrific crime scene and it doesn't take long for the two of them to close the door on the ugliness of their careers and begin a torrid love affair. Julie comes close to the edge when she is stalked by a maniac who invades her privacy, but she refuses to give up on her job and putting herself out there to help others. More than once she finds an inner strength to keep herself going as well as encouraging Jake when his worries and self-doubts as a dad seem insurmountable.

Of all of my heroines so far, I think that Deanna Blair is the strongest in Hostage Heart. After losing a beloved family member to the floods of Katrina and then seeing her parents' home and livelihood destroyed in more hurricanes just a few years later, she takes it upon herself to find a way to help them rebuild. With a fresh high school diploma in hand she leaves her comfort zone where she has lived all of her life to come to New York City and find a job. Deanna meets Ryan Hunter during a bank hold-up and when he gets himself into hot water defending her honor she tries to reciprocate and winds up becoming a victim.

Download a FREE First Chapter Chapbook of Bartlett’s Rule, Forgotten, Within the Law, Courage of the Heart, Final Sin & Hostage Heart

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