PLOTTING WITH WOUNDED HEROES

My heroes are all wounded. Not just emotionally, but physically, as well. Being a hero in a Cheryl Pierson story is like being an expendable member of the landing party on Star Trek. If you had on a red shirt when you beamed down to the planet’s surface, you could pretty well figure you weren’t going to be returning to the Enterprise in one piece, or alive.

In my recent TWRP historical western release, Fire Eyes, U.S. Marshal Kaed Turner is tortured and shot at the hands of the villain, Andrew Fallon, and his gang of cutthroats. A band of Choctaw Indians deposit Kaed on Jessica Monroe’s doorstep with instructions to take care of him. “Do not allow him to die,” the chief tells her.

Can she save him? Or will he meet the same fate that befell her husband, Billy? Although Kaed’s injuries are severe, he recovers under a combination of Jessica’s expert care and his own resolve and inner strength.

The injuries he sustained give him the time he needs to get to know Jessica quickly. Their relationship becomes more intimate in a shorter time span due to the circumstances. Under normal conditions of courtship, the level their relationship skyrockets to in just a few days would take weeks, or months.

Wounding the hero is a way to also show the vile, evil deeds of the villain. We can develop a kinship with the hero as he faces what seem to be insurmountable odds against the villain. How will he overcome those odds? Even if he weren’t injured, it would be hard enough—but now, we feel each setback more keenly than ever. He’s vulnerable in a way he has no control over. How will he deal with it, in the face of this imminent danger?

Enter the heroine. She’ll do what she can to help, but will it be enough to make a difference? This is her chance to show what she’s made of, and further the relationship between them. (If he dies, of course, that can’t happen.)

From this point on, as the hero begins to recover, he also regains his confidence as well as his strength.

It’s almost like “The Six Million Dollar Man”: We can build him stronger…faster…better…

He will recover, but now he has something to lose—the newfound love between him and the heroine. Now, he’s deadlier than ever, and it’s all about protecting the woman he loves.

Or, his injuries may give him a view of life that he hadn’t hoped for before. Maybe the heroine’s care and the ensuing love between them make the hero realize qualities in himself he hadn’t known were there.

In my holiday short story, A Night For Miracles, wounded gunman Nick Dalton arrives on widow Angela Bentley’s doorstep in a snowstorm. Angela is tempted at first to turn him away, until she realizes he’s traveling with three half-frozen youngsters, and he’s bleeding.

As she settles the children into the warmth of her home and begins to treat Nick’s injury, she realizes it’s Christmas Eve—“A Night For Miracles,” Nick says wryly. “I’m ready for mine.”

In this excerpt, the undercurrents between them are strong, but Nick realizes Angela’s fears. She’s almost as afraid of taking in a gunman with a reputation as she is of being alone again.

FROM “A NIGHT FOR MIRACLES” (RELEASE DATE DEC. 2, 2009, TWRP)

Angela placed the whiskey-damp cloth against the jagged wound. The man flinched, but held himself hard against the pain. Finally, he opened his eyes. She looked into his sun-bronzed face, his deep blue gaze burning with a startling, compelling intensity as he watched her. He moistened his lips, reminding Angela that she should give him a drink. She laid the cloth in a bowl and turned to pour the water into the cup she’d brought.

He spoke first. “What…what’s your name?” His voice was raspy with pain, but held an underlying tone of gentleness. As if he were apologizing for putting her to this trouble, she thought. The sound of it comforted her. She didn’t know why, and she didn’t want to think about it. He’d be leaving soon.

“Angela.” She lifted his head and gently pressed the metal cup to his lips. “Angela Bentley.”

He took two deep swallows of the water. “Angel,” he said, as she drew the cup away and set it on the nightstand. “It fits.”

She looked down, unsure of the compliment and suddenly nervous. She walked to the low oak chest to retrieve the bandaging and dishpan. “And you are…”

“Nick Dalton, ma’am.” His eyes slid shut as she whirled to face him. A cynical smile touched his lips. “I see…you’ve heard of me.”

A killer. A gunfighter. A ruthless mercenary. What was he doing with these children? She’d heard of him, all right, bits and pieces, whispers at the back fence. Gossip, mainly. And the stories consisted of such variation there was no telling what was true and what wasn’t.

She’d heard. She just hadn’t expected him to be so handsome. Hadn’t expected to see kindness in his eyes. Hadn’t expected to have him show up on her doorstep carrying a piece of lead in him, and with three children in tow. She forced herself to respond through stiff lips. “Heard of you? Who hasn’t?”

He met her challenging stare. “I mean you no harm.”

She remained silent, and he closed his eyes once more. His hands rested on the edge of the sheet, and Angela noticed the traces of blood on his left thumb and index finger. He’d tried to stem the blood flow from his right side as he rode. “I’m only human, it seems, after all,” he muttered huskily. “Not a legend tonight. Just a man.”

He was too badly injured to be a threat, and somehow, looking into his face, she found herself trusting him despite his fearsome reputation. She kept her expression blank and approached the bed with the dishpan and the bandaging tucked beneath her arm. She fought off the wave of compassion that threatened to engulf her. It was too dangerous. When she spoke, her tone was curt. “A soldier of fortune, from what I hear.”

He gave a faint smile. “Things aren’t always what they seem, Miss Bentley.”

I hope you’ve enjoyed this peek into what makes my heroes ‘tick.’ For more information and excerpts, I semi-maintain two blogs for your reading pleasure.

http://www.cherylpiersonbooks.blogspot.com is my writing tips and news blog, and
http://www.westwindsromance.blogspot.com is my western historical blog. You can visit my website at http://www.cherylpierson.com

Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment!
Cheryl

Bad Boy or Anti-Hero?

There’s just something we ladies can’t resist about bad boys. Think of Han Solo and his irresistible smirk when he tells Princess Lea, “I’m just in it for the money, Lady.” [quoted as well as I remember] You want to be angry with him for being so self-serving, but it’s hard to be when he’s so charming and when you know he’ll end up doing what’s right, despite himself.

Han is the perfect symbol of an anti-hero, a term I hadn’t heard until recently on a writing list. What’s the difference between a bad boy and an anti-hero? Easy enough: an anti-hero is the star of the show. Minor characters can be bad boys, but when the main male character is more cowardly than strong, more greedy than giving, and selfish or self-centered instead of … well, instead of being heroic and gentlemanly, he’s an anti-hero. Heroes can also be bad boys in some ways but still follow most of the heroic characteristics of strength, compassion, kindness, self-sacrifice, and being in control of themselves and their surroundings.

I have an anti-hero. In all fairness, I have more than one. Alan in “Finishing Touches” has some anti-hero qualities since he hits on Jenna while he’s married. Evan in “Rehearsal” stands back and refuses to tell Susie how he feels instead of fighting for her. Even Duncan from “Rehearsal”, who my female readers tend to spar over, has self-esteem issues, which is said to be an anti-hero quality. I’m not so sure about that one, as most heroes I read have at least a touch of that and it makes them more human and lovable.

My next main male character, coming in November, is a true anti-hero, though. Here’s the blurb (in progress, changes may occur):

"Riveting" Ryan Reynauld has immersed himself in a world of
music, parties, and acquaintances who ask nothing of him.
Having risen to the top of the pop charts, his biggest concern
is objecting to the way his music is produced, until he finds a young woman standing on a window ledge. Against the advice of everyone
he trusts, and through media attacks and fan threats, Ryan
determines to care for her himself, making a promise that
threatens to destroy his career.

Convincing the skittish girl she can learn to trust again comes
with a steep price. Sometimes the path to recovery comes
from first allowing your world to implode.

Ryan likes to joke with those around him about his self-importance and arrogance. He knows he is and shows no remorse for being so. He calls his attitude “what got him this far” in the face of loss and bullying during his childhood. He’s also not your typical hunk; he scorns himself for being rather short and not well-built. He depends on his security team and especially his security chief/friend to pull him out of the scrapes he likes to get himself into. And he has a well-known reputation with female fans.

Still, he has redeeming qualities. He’s good at his job. He’s hard-working, writes beautiful lyrics, and he’s loyal to his musicians. His niece and nephew adore him. And when Kaitlyn comes to the end of what she can handle, he steps in to be her hero, at his own cost.

Comparisons have been made between anti-heroes and villains as possibly the same thing except villains are subordinate characters. In romances, with the necessary HEA, an anti-hero must also be redeemable, while villains often aren’t.

What do you think? Do you have any favorite anti-heroes from literature or film? Is there much difference between a hero with bad boy qualities and anti-heroes? I have to say I’m intrigued as to what readers will think of Ryan, my first full-out anti-hero, also the only POV character of the novel.

~~~
As I haven’t officially started promo on this book yet, this is a first showing of the cover. Yes, you’re seeing it here first!

Off The Moon
LK Hunsaker

coming November 2009
from Elucidate Publishing

Literary Romance
Trade Paperback & Ebook

www.LKHunsaker.com
lkhunsaker.blogspot.com

Hidden Feelings, Inner Thoughts.

A while ago, a bunch of us on another blog had a brief discussion about whether contemporary men have a deeper side to them. Well, of course they do! But then again, I would say that. It’s what I enjoy writing the most. I’m interested in the internal stuff; the internal dialogue and the sense of self. Perhaps it’s because of the work I’ve done in the past - the theatre is a place where emotions are always on show and you're surrounded by actors and singers whose job it is to show their deeper feelings to an audience by means of music, dialogue or soliloquy. Very often, as in real life, the persona a character presents to the outside world bears little or no relation to what’s really happening deep inside. In the case of ‘the hero,’ how he deals with this persona and these feelings is what interests me.

When it comes to ‘sense of self,’ Tony Valentino, my hero from A Different Kind of Honesty, has had to deal with more than most. As an undercover FBI agent, he’s spent much of his time ‘being’ another person – in his case, a full-on, player-type named Joey Pescolloni. While Tony and Joey were two different kinds of men, what interested me was how the real person inside – Tony – coped with this dual personality and double life. Well, the truth is, he coped fine. Most of the time.

“It was like being both, me and Joey, all at the same time. Him on the outside, me on the inside... “

Tony has accepted that he has to carry everything inside, rarely expressing his real, true self. That comes with the job, a job that can involve personal loss and major life changes. But Tony’s a professional. He’s trained to work that way, he can handle it. At least, he thought he could handle it, until the day he met Maggie Lawless and knew right away that she was ‘the one.’ In a world of secrets and half-truths, Tony has no choice but to keep the truth about himself hidden from her, and that means the relationship’s over before it’s barely begun. When he meets her again six months later, he knows he must explain.

“Maggie, I need to talk to you. About what happened before.”
She swung around to face him, forcing her brightest smile.
“You know, you don’t have to say a thing about that. I can guess how it was.”
“Can you?” He raised an eyebrow in surprise. She said nothing and he took a step towards her. “Maggie—”
“It’s okay.” She cut him off, unable to bear hearing him say her name if all he meant to do was to tell her what a mistake he’d made. “These things happen and then they’re best forgotten. I understand that.”
Tony drew a breath. “No, wait a second...there are things I should explain to you. Things you might not have understood......Yes, I asked you to dinner because it suited Joey, but as soon as we started talking, I mean, really talking—” He dropped his hands to his sides, facing her, breathing hard. “I was lying to you and I didn’t want to. But I had no choice.”

To say he’s met with a mixed response is an understatement! But now Tony has to let Maggie to come to terms with what happened between them all those months ago, and deep inside, he knows what choice he wants her to make. He wants her back. But Maggie may not feel the same way.

In the excerpt that follows, Tony goes to visit an old friend, and we find out a little more about what’s going on inside.

‘Tony slowed the silver Taurus to a halt and killed the engine. The clock on the dash showed ten after one. He glanced in the rear and side view mirrors, but didn’t see any other cars on the road. Besides, he’d done a couple of tortuous circuits of the area before finally pulling into the Linares’ driveway.
He got out and walked up the path in the full afternoon sun, noting Ramon’s old station wagon in front of the garage. Behind that, parked in front of the Taurus, stood a brand new red Ford Fusion he hadn’t seen before. He checked through the driver’s side windows. A map lay open on the passenger seat, and on the backseat, a light blue sweatshirt with a faded surfer logo and a woman’s red jean jacket. Next to those, a couple of small mineral water bottles with sports caps, one empty, and a copy of the week’s Time Out. As he walked around the car, he saw a sticker in the rear window that read ‘Star Car Rental, NYC, NY.’
Tony thought a moment. Ramon hadn’t mentioned any houseguests. It occurred to him the car might be a set up, but he dismissed the idea almost immediately. The types who might have wanted a couple of short-and-to-the-point words with him weren’t that subtle.
Shrieks and yells burst from the garden behind the house and he jerked his head up. A woman’s laughter and shouts of encouragement floated over sounds of children squealing and he recognized Nina Linares’ voice. Letting out a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in, he closed his eyes and ran a hand over his forehead, wondering when the hell he’d forgotten how children’s games sounded. A knock on glass startled him and he looked up to see Ramon wave from the window and jab his finger towards the front door before he disappeared from view.
Tony walked over to the porch steps and turned to look back along the road he’d just driven. Very few houses sat out here and those that did were mostly obscured by bushy shrubs and mature trees. He didn’t see anyone, and it was doubtful anyone could have seen him. There were no cars parked on the street.
Despite the sunshine, a misty blue haze hung around the top of the hills beyond the valley, the way it always looked every time he’d visited. He’d last been here a couple of months back; before that, several years ago, before he’d gone undercover. The landscape had a Mediterranean look about it, the reason Ramon and Nina had chosen it as the place to make their home and bring up their three children.
Ramon sauntered down the front steps, relaxed in his weekend clothes instead of one of his tailored office suits.
“I heard the car. Glad you made it, my friend.” He clapped Tony on the shoulder. They shook hands then Tony returned his gaze to the view.
“Always looks so still. And the air tastes so good. Makes you think about what you’re breathing in the city.”
Ramon nodded his agreement. “Nina chose well. It reminds her of the mountains she knew as a child in Spain.”
“She still want to go back?”
“Ah, maybe one day.” Ramon shrugged, stroking his neat beard. “When we’re old and grey.” He looked at Tony. “What about you? You going to make that return trip to Italy you keep telling me about?”
“Sure, soon as I can. You know my folks went back there?”
“No, I didn’t know. To be near your brother and his family?”
“Paolo the hot-shot Rome lawyer, yeah. Seemed like the right thing for them to do, this time of their life. My dad decided he wanted to die where he was born. He’s not dead yet, though,” he added with a smile. “I’ll visit soon. When this case is over.”
“Relive a bit of your youth, huh?”
“Yeah. Last time, I was seventeen. Worked on my uncle’s farm a whole summer. Drove my aunt crazy, running around with the village teenagers at night.” He gave a short laugh at the memory. “She was all for sending me home, but my uncle bailed me out.”
Ramon nodded. “She’d be proud of you now, though.”
Tony turned to him in surprise, but Ramon kept his look directed at the distant hills. Tony looked at them too.
“Something else about that summer...I fell head over heels in love with the village beauty. Infatuated. She’d have nothing to do with me, though.” He smiled. “I don’t think she ever knew.”
“And it broke your foolish teenage heart?”
“Into a million pieces. And you know what? I can't even remember her name."
Ramon laughed. “C’mon. Nina is cooking paella to die for and there’s a cold beer out there with your name on it.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Ramon headed up the steps to the front door. Before he followed, Tony took one last look at the blue hills. He thought about the village beauty all those years back. Now there was another girl in the picture and it looked like she didn’t want to know either. Only this time, he hadn’t forgotten her name. This one was inked on his heart like a tattoo. And removing it would hurt like hell.’

A Different Kind of Honesty is published in print and e-book, and is available from The Wild Rose Press.