First of all, let me send out a big thank you to the very talented Rosanna Leo for hosting me today on her blog! I admit to lusting after quite a few of her covers and so hope to capture a Selkie of my own someday. In the meantime, I will just have to keep on writing about the heroes that steal my own heart. Let me just sit down and get comfortable for a minute because this is something I have a lot to say about. *Pulls up chair*.
So what sort of hero calls to me? You wanted to ask me that, right? *Starts talking anyway*
I love heroes that are both vulnerable and strong. They have to be self deprecating but still confident in their primary abilities. Of course, being incredibly sexy and great in bed doesn’t hurt either! * Wipes a bit of perspiration from brow *. A hero needs to be protective of his woman while also letting her live her own life and excel in her own endeavors without jealousy and manipulation. He must be faithful, persistent and determined to see the positive in life despite what darkness has transpired.
My newest hero, Thomas Morgan, has a past that haunts him but he has found ways to cope with his mistakes. At least until love finds him and he has to change.
How long does it take to write a full-length novel? How do I stop talking long enough to ever get any writing done?
I can’t speak for any other writers, but it takes me quite a long time! Just ask my husband and kids who complain about the amount of time I spend handcuffed to my computer. I start out with a character in mind and then imagine what sort of trouble they might attract. Once I get a basic idea of where I think the story is going the real work begins. I probably write in batches of about 2,000 words every few days, which usually works out to equal a fully fleshed out scene. The scenes build on each other and sometimes things wind up going in a completely different direction than where I had planned! Those pesky characters haunt me. Now I realize writing a few thousand words every few days sounds like a lot, but much of that winds up in the trash. I once read another famous author’s advice to aspiring writers and he basically said to just keep writing. Even if you think most of it is junk there will be some treasures in there. My newest release, “Isabel’s Awakening” took me almost a year to write because the characters of Isabel and Thomas just kept talking to me and not letting me finish their story. For the last couple months I have been writing a follow-up book and don’t expect to finish before the end of summer.
What is a theme of your romances? Theme, what theme, I just look for excuses
to throw lots of hot sex into my books…I mean of course there are themes of transformation and healing. *Coughs discreetly and smiles*.
I love fairy tales because the stories are such simple tales of good and evil, love and hate. A childhood favorite of mine was the tale of Cinderella. As an adult, I realize that such a tale really needs some modern updating. In the traditional story, Cinderella is the poor stepdaughter forced into a cruel fate and can only be saved by her Prince Charming. Cinderella doesn’t fight her way out of the basement and into the light; in fact, her attempts at doing so are rather futile and based more on the activities of her friends than her own ingenuity.
Finally, the only thing Prince Charming knows about his love for her is her beauty and her sweetness. He has no idea what kind of a woman she really is! I fully accept that my stories are modern Cinderella tales. They involve women who are attractive, but not international beauties. They often have experienced profound loss and pain in their past, which they work to overcome. They are talented, resourceful and smart women who have a fiery independent streak and a desire to take on the world in their own way. Each of them falls in love with a different type of man and each works to bring that man to his knees. They don’t need an alpha male to rescue them; they want a man to need them and share their souls with. I do wish the Prince had at least known a bit more about his bride-to-be besides her shoe size.
Anyway, thanks again Rosanna for letting me blab on today! *Waves and then bites down on lip to stop further talking*.
T.D. Hassett grew up reading the romance greats, Jackie Collins, Julie Garwood and Judith McNaught. She was certain that life should be like a romance novel, lots of passion, some incredible adventures and a guaranteed happily ever after. She attended college in New England earning a B.A. in history and a M.S. degree in clinical psychology before changing her mind again and studying education. Currently Ms. Hassett lives in Connecticut with her very patient husband and two young children. Her rambunctious family shares their home with 3 crazy cats and a darling golden retriever named Delilah. Her eccentric relatives and their quest to make her feel like the only normal nut in the family tree inspire her writing.
Isabel’s Awakening Blurb
It’s been five busy years, and Newcastle-born singer/guitarist Thomas Morgan is still punishing himself for his younger brother’s death.
Thomas’s young, fashion-model wife once led her husband’s idolizing brother, Chris, into both drugs and an adulterous relationship. The loss of his brother and total destruction of his marriage destroyed Thomas. To avoid entanglements with others, even his young son, Thomas focused on promoting his music and the management of his now highly profitable record company. He thought he had everything at a safe distance, at least until Isabel literally slammed into his life.
High school teacher, Isabel Warren, finds herself falling head over heels in love with the sexy-as-sin guitarist for the rock band Becket. Soon Isabel’s orderly world of lesson plans, thesis writing, and student loan debt is competing against desire, passion, and her vulnerable heart.
Isabel struggles to navigate her newly stirred passions with her rising academic career and independent nature. As the sex sizzles, the two lovers will have to decide which parts of their dreams they will sacrifice for their fledgling relationship.
Can Thomas ever trust and love again, and will the young woman he meets ever have the confidence and strength to be with him?
It was well after midnight, and Isabel felt the buzz of concert beer and party wine. Thomas had been working the room steadily and checking back to ensure she was chatting happily with a group. She saw him cornered with a radio show producer he’d introduced her to earlier. Thomas had a tortured expression on his beautiful face. She finally understood why the whole band didn’t show up at these things.
The ladies she’d been chatting with were working up a sweat on the dance floor, and part of her longed to join them. The rational side won out. She really couldn’t dance and preferred others not to know how clumsy she could be, especially after a few drinks. Isabel parked herself by the bar and prepared to enjoy some people-watching. She couldn’t believe how packed the place was. She did meet some really nice people and only got snubbed by a few drunken idiots who must have been trawling for celebrities. Part of her was disappointed it was time to go when Thomas returned from his latest round of shop talk and asked if she was ready to head out.
Thomas escorted her to the elevator while tapping out a message on his iPhone. He was letting the hotel’s driver know they were ready to go and where to meet them. They stepped into the mirror-lined elevator and headed down to the lobby level. Suddenly, Isabel was nervous, and not in a front-door-kiss-or-no-kiss-end-of-the-date sort of way. She hadn’t had the talk with herself about this date because it just all sort of happened. She had really expected just to go to the show and then be home by ten thirty, reading thesis notes and petting her cat. Even at the backstage party, she’d still thought she’d get to chat with him for a few minutes and then be dismissed with the rest of the hordes. Why did he want to be with her when there were so many other girls? Insecurities washed over her.
Thomas overwhelmed her. He was so out of Isabel’s little world. On Monday, she would teach the Crusades to disinterested seventeen-year-olds, and he would be many miles away somewhere, crooning out megahits to a stadium filled with adoring fans. Oh my God. What was she even pretending to do?
Her disparaging thoughts suddenly flew totally out of her head. Thomas looked right into her eyes and stroked her lower lip.
“You did great tonight. I’m really glad you came,” he huskily whispered. Before she could ask for clarification, he continued. “I saw you talking and laughing with the staff from Marketing and Planning, and I liked that. In my line of work, you get a little sick of people always brown-nosing the celebrities and forgetting who’s responsible for the whole fuckin’ operation.”
It sounded as though he was about to say more, but the elevator jerked to a stop, and the lights went out, only to flicker back on seconds later. Must have been a power surge and the backup generators were kicking on.
Isabel stared back, wide-eyed and openmouthed. He leaned closer, and without any further hesitation, his lips met hers.
This was a kiss, a real, soul-sucking and tongue-sliding-over-her-lips kiss, the kiss of all kisses. Oh my.
One of his hands slid from her jawline to the back of her neck and pushed her lips into harder contact with his own. The other hand gently tugged her jaw down so her mouth opened slightly. His tongue slipped into her mouth and tickled her inner lip. He swirled his tongue around and caressed hers. She tasted the heady mix of wine and good stout on their mingling breaths. Before she could stop herself, she let a little moan escape. Their mouths became even hungrier for each other, and she pressed her breasts to his chest. He nibbled her lip a bit and then resumed the dueling of tongues deep in her mouth. The hand on her neck dropped down and gently squeezed her ass, pushing her harder into him. She felt his erection against her lower belly, and very wicked parts of her longed to pull his leather pants down and stroke him. Isabel rolled her hips against him and was rewarded with a wonderful growl.
He slid his hand up her clingy tank top and cupped her breast. She wanted more. Her breasts swelled, and her core became soaked with just the rhythm of his tongue in her mouth, sliding in and out and around. His slender fingers slid their way under her bra, and finally, he stroked one engorged nipple. The blood in her body flooded to two very special spots.
Isabel strained against his fingers, wanting him to pinch and stroke her nipple more. Hell, she wanted him to slide his other hand up and play with both breasts. He ground against her, and she responded with animal like mewling noises. This was not the teacher her students would even realize existed.
The elevator shook and resumed its downward journey, jolting both of them apart. Cool air flowed against her heated skin, and they each took a deep breath. Thomas stepped sideways a bit. He smiled like a male model and said simply, “Wow.”
She couldn’t help replying, “Wow to you too.”