The #WritingChallenge is back!

Writing Challenge BubbleAfter the excitements of SYTYCW, we’re so thrilled to have another #WritingChallenge for you all this weekend! This one is for anyone who’s ever wanted to write a ‘heroine in jeopardy’ themed book…

Your heroine is in danger…how does your hero save the day? And how does she feel about being rescued?!

As always, let us know below the line, and we’ll check back in on Monday to give you all feedback.

Happy writing!

The SOLD editors x

96 replies on “The #WritingChallenge is back!”

In my book, Getting the Edge, this actually happens. Amanda has been kidnapped by the man that destroyed her life–and Brandon’s.

Brandon awoke and instantly knew he was alone. He cursed beneath his breath. She’d run. Damn it, she’d run. After promising him she’d stay put. He cursed as he climbed from the bed and dragged on his clothes.

Manda awakened to a pounding head and darkness. Heart racing, she didn’t move. A blindfold. She had on a blindfold. She listened for sounds, but heard nothing. Only then did she release a shaky breath. She should have never left Brandon. It had been stupid. She heard footsteps. Someone was coming. Too late, she realized. It was too late to tell Brandon the truth.

The steps drew nearer and her breath quickened. She hadn’t left a trail. Brandon would never find her in time. Keeping him safe had been her top priority, but in doing so, she hadn’t been as careful as she should have been.

She heard the creak of a door and clenched her teeth, bracing for what would happen next.

A hard hand removed the blindfold, and she glanced up, blinking to adjust to the sudden infusion of light. “Brandon?”

Brandon lowered his head and whispered in her ear. “Shh. I’m going to get you out of here. You have no idea how much trouble you’re in, Amanda.”

You do suspense really well with the short sentences. I wonder what truth she wants to tell him. It’s nice that she puts his safety over her own.

Gah! It was just getting good! The pacing was solid – I didn’t even feel like I was reading, but witnessing the events unfold. fantastic writing! 🙂

Love the tension here! And what a great last line from Brandon, it really captures both his heroism (he’ll rescue her) but also his Alphaness – she’ll need to work hard to explain why she ran off!

Welcome back SOLD Writing Challenge. I missed the fun on here. This is a possible scene from my WIP called Rocked by his Voice.

The private hospital CEO rang ten minutes after Gavin Lockwood left her house for the last time. ‘We can offer you a Senior Speech and Language Therapist position in our voice clinic.’
‘What? How?’ Janet Quinn couldn’t formulate a coherent sentence. Six years ago she successfully interviewed for that prestigious place. She turned in down for love. It was the biggest mistake of her life. ‘Huh?’
‘I’ll send comprehensive details via email. You can tell us when you start and any changes you want.’ With deferential platitudes about welcoming her to their team, he ended the call.
Janet reasoned as she hung her washing on the line. How did they get her up to date contact details? Her experience only qualified her for an entry level post not a senior one. By the time she emptied the laundry basket, her mind joined the dots into the logo of the world’s biggest band. Lockwood.

She pulled her pink push bike from the shed, not caring about the mud dragged through her terraced house. She cycled along the coast road towards his cliff top mansion.

Half way there, she met a tailback. As expected today’s supercar fronted it. Nobody would dare over take the world’s most powerful rockstar and humanitarian. Indeed they considered it an honour to be delayed by his rubbish driving.
She braked alongside his yellow sports car and shouted. ‘Gavin. Pull over. Now.’
‘Wicked.’ He meandered into a sanddune with a skid and opened the passenger butterfly door. ‘Follow me home, honey and we can practise breathing again.’
‘No. What meddling have you done this time? Don’t bother to deny it.’ She kicked down her bike stand
‘Remember to relax your voice in this argument.’
‘Check my breathing too’
‘No.’ Surely he understood clavicular, thoracic and abdominal cycles after all her hands on demonstrations. ‘Did you organise a job for me?’
‘You told me your private practise struggled and you once aspired to a job there.’ He pulled his aviator sunglasses off.
‘Gavin Lockwood makes the impossible possible.’
She stared into his blue eyes.’You don’t. You use your fame to get your own way.’
’Not at all. I paid for a Gavin Lockwood wing.’
‘Why would you do that?’ That donation would exceed her earnings even if she worked there until retirement.
‘You saved me, and consequently the world from oppression, famine and pointless wars. In return I solved your problems in three minutes.’
Her stomach swished louder than the tide. She changed her plans to suit Bertie and it signalled the beginning of the end. Men only acted with self interest. Especially the arrogant, over confident one beside her.

I love a hero that can “Make the impossible possible.” Great line!! Also loved the fact that she was after him on a push bike.

OMG I loved Gavin. So cocky and arrogant and hot. LOL and the practice breathing line killed me. I totally got the reference (being he’s a singer) but the implied innuendo is equally awesome. Great job! I’d read this in a heart beat.

I liked the spunk in this scene, Mary, but — as per the call of this Writing Challenge — I didn’t get the sense that the heroine was in danger here. The piece also seemed disjointed to me.

It’s great that your scene — somewhat in the end — “tells” of a rescue of sorts, via dialogue, but I would have liked to have been “shown” that happening.

Chris thanks for your insight. I left you one last night but it’s locked in moderation lock. The whole book is disjointed. I made the mistake of writing about something I know but forget few others do. She’s in financial danger (by his standards anyway) rather than a physical threat. I’m rubbish at writing that type.

Jo and Rebecca – Thanks.

Applying to your writing what you know, or have experienced, can benefit your stories, Mary. I don’t think that you made any mistake here by writing about what you do know. That brought a nice angle to the scene. 🙂

We really enjoy how you use their backstory – a previous ‘rescue’ by the heroine – to motivate this front story! And how unimpressed the heroine is by him coming to her aid. We predict fireworks ahead 🙂

I love Gavin. He makes the impossible possible. Definitely my kind of guy. And Janet is a regular girl which makes the story very relatable in fairytale fantasy kinda way.


The car door slammed, then the tires screeched on the pavement, as the auto sped away from the shopping center’s parking lot. But Brock Sanders wasn’t done that easily. Especially not after he’d been sucker punched, and a girl with golden hair was being kidnapped.

Over the years, blonde-headed women had been Brock’s weakness. He’d fall in love with them too easily, then let them go too quickly. That’s why he had never come close to ever getting married. A prize boxer, Brock’s history with women was fast, loose, and over.

But there had been something about this girl that made Brock want to save her now. Perhaps, he thought, that was because he’d been interrupted while he’d been asking her her name. And no one did that to Undefeated Quick-Fisted Brock Sanders. Not if they knew what was good for them, anyway.

A fading scream.

With his ears tuned to the damsel in distress, Brock forced himself up from the blacktop. He shook off the thug’s surprise attack on him and thought about the grabbed unknown woman. Five ten, hourglass figure, long, tan legs, silky-golden flowing hair. Damn, that hair.

The color of her hair was what had captured his eye earlier, when he’d seen her loading her car with groceries, as he’d exited the gym.

Springing now into action, Brock bolted after the modified Mustang.

A shot.

The kidnapper’s gun — pointed out of the window and back — sounded an explosion from the barrel. A bullet whizzed by Brock, as he twisted the top half of his muscled torso, away from the projectile, while still in pursuit of the fleeing, but weaving car.

Another shot.

Brock twisted his body again to avoid the bullet and grunted, “You son-of-a-b**** — ” as he ran now alongside the unsteady auto. “Stop this car!”

The kidnapper’s beady dark eyes focused frontward, as his booted foot readied to floor the accelerator.

Brock spied the woman’s lifeless body on the backseat. He was through playing games now. With a clenched fist, he lunged at the driver through the door’s window opening, landing a solid right jab onto the kidnapper’s cheek, and knocking him out cold.

Pulling himself into the rolling car, Brock pushed the kidnapper’s limp body to the passenger side, and brought the car to a safe stop.

Without pause, Brock exited the car and pulled open the back door. Looking over the woman’s face with concern, he noticed a bruise on her cheek. “Can you hear me?” he asked, tapping her lightly. “Miss?”

To which the woman responded through groggy glee, as she hugged him, “Just when I thought there were no more heroes left in the world, then comes you. I’m Sally Mills. You have a name, cowboy?”

Brook is a likeable hero and interesting. I love your description of the internal thought as he rescues Sally. You also adeptly slip in a clue of his conflict and motivation with ‘His history with women was fast, loose and over.
I’m curious about why Sally thinks he’s a cowboy. I suspect this could be an opposites attract romance.

Thanks, Mary. 🙂

Cowboy here wasn’t meant to be taken in the literal sense. Sally’s using it just to affectionately coin how she “views” Brock — as a “can-do-anything-alpha-male-hero” — just like many rugged cowboys — due to his dramatic rescue of her.

Wow Brock almost sounds superhuman. My fave writing challenge offering from you thus far, Chris!

Thanks, Fallon. As you know, the alpha male usually is more than just an average bear, in a romance!

What a great action scene! Really fun and exciting, and especially like the glimpse we get of the heroine at the end – she might have been in dire need of rescuing, but she’s clearly one feisty woman!

I love the way Sally’s introduction lightens the tension. Your descriptions make me envious. Excellent writing.

Hi Everyone. My heroine is trying to trick her billionaire childhood sweetheart into making her pregnant. He’s lost his memory and she has to somehow work her way into his home and his bed. I’ve pasted an excerpt …
“Would you like to try out the seafood paella? It is one of my favorites.”
He found himself staring at her again. Everything about her tugged at his lost memories. Her emerald eyes in particular. He’d seen her wide, green eyes before. Where? he wondered. A photo? Or was it a painting? He balled his hands into fists at his inability to remember. Damn the accident and damn those memories that still eluded him despite hypnosis and meditation.
Rio shook his head slightly and pretended to read something on his mobile phone. If she was someone from his past who’d returned to take advantage of his memory loss, he’d teach her a lesson she’d never forget. Just as he’d taught others before her.

She realized he was waiting for her reply when she felt his gaze burn into her.
She was mildly allergic to seafood, shellfish in particular—Rio’s favorite.
“I love seafood too,” she lied. Her plan was falling into place so easily she was tempted to pat herself on her back.
Rio had unsuspectingly played according to her plan. He’d dropped his guard far too easily and had relaxed visibly in her company. He’d inadvertently paved the way for the next part of her plan.
His phone rang, breaking the physical tension between them. She swallowed antihistamine while Rio answered his phone. She’d fake the symptoms of her allergic attack just after she’d nibbled on the accompanying side dish of grilled shellfish. Perfecto. Rio’s call lasted long enough for her to feign an attack.
“I…I can’t breathe.” Rosa gasped for effect. She grabbed the edge of the table for support before taking a much-rehearsed swan dive onto the expensive marble floor. She watched Rio jump into action out of the corner of her eye and celebrated the second step of her small victory silently.
She couldn’t tear her eyes off him even as he pushed past the table with such force that their plates, cutlery, and glasses went flying. She’d been starved of him all these years. Now all she wanted was to absorb as much of him as she possibly could during their brief meeting.
“Rosa!” He cupped her face. “What’s happened?”
She pointed at the table. “I must be allergic to shellfish,” she whispered, careful to appear innocent.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Rosa sighed, relieved when Rio fell into her trap, whipped out his cell phone, and called the local emergency service. She listened to him speak in rapid Spanish and memorized every word. She never wanted to forget a moment of the day she conceived her child with Rio.
“You should have said something,” he told her once he ended the call.
“I’m sorry.” She was careful to keep her voice soft and helpless.
Her skin lit up when he wrapped his arms around her and picked her up from the floor. She shut her eyes and savored this moment of closeness she’d only dreamed about over the last ten years.
“Rosa,” he scolded, “surely you know you are allergic to shellfish, yet you said nothing.”
Rosa smiled. He had no idea how much she’d yearned to hear him scold her or have him carry her in his arms.
“You were afraid,” he whispered as he lay her down on a chaise.
“No.” She opened her eyes and took in his beautiful face riddled with concern over her well being. Their eyes locked when he brushed loose strands of hair off her face.
“Then what was the reason for your silence, Rosa?” he asked. Only Rio uttered each syllable of her name so intimately that the epicenter of her belly shook.
Stop it, Rosa. This isn’t the time for romantic fantasies, she reminded herself, and you have a goal to fulfill.
She slipped out of her dreams and back to the present. One wrong move and she risked giving up her game. What if a part of him still remembered the past they’d shared together? A mixture of panic and satisfaction tightened the tender center between her chest and belly. The man she’d been promised to since her inception could not keep memories out of his soul, even though his mind had misplaced them. It was only a matter of time before Rio remembered her altogether. It took all of her willpower not to give in to emotion as she imagined the consequences of Rio remembering her. He’d probably shut her out as coldly as he’d done all those years ago.
Media reports spoke of a car crash in France that had broken his skull and affected his memory. She closed her eyes again as horrific images the media had published of Rio’s accident flashed in her mind.
“Rosa, please speak to me!” Rio said when she opened her eyes. “I was afraid you’d become unconscious.
He caressed her forehead. Rosa grimaced. Why oh why did Rio have to touch her? Being in his arms was torture enough. Of course he had no idea what effect his touch had on her. Her actions filled her with guilt because of her silent deception.
“It’s about time you got here!”
She snapped back to reality when Rio spoke to the paramedics.
“What took you so long?” he demanded.
“We are terribly sorry, Señor Alejandro,” one of the men apologized. “We were caught in traffic.”
“That is a pathetic excuse,” Rio whispered. “If anything happens to this young lady, I will hold you two personally responsible!”
Her insides trembled. This was how it had been between them. Rio had once protected her from harm, insult, and injury. Was it wrong for her to wish his memory back? To take back what she had been robbed of?
Stop it, Rosa! she scolded herself. You are not here to indulge in a romantic fantasy. You’re here to accomplish one dream. That’s it. Things will never go back to the way they were between you and Rio.
“Are you taking Señorita Cruz to hospital?”
Hospital! Rosa’s eyes flew open. She could not go to hospital. That would ruin exposer her. Blood tests would reveal traces of antihistamine in her system. The doctors would figure out she hadn’t really suffered from anaphylactic shock. The last thing Rosa wanted was to be kept in hospital overnight. She’d planned on spending the night in Rio’s bed. She knew Rio would scrutinize her medical reports and eventually discover she had lied about the attack if she remained here.
Think, Rosa.
“I…I am fine.” She lowered her eyes before facing Rio. “I am terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you, Señor Alejandro. I should have told you that I am allergic to shellfish.”
“It was a small oversight on your part. Now I want you to get a professional opinion, Rosa.” Her insides melted when he gently cupped her face. “Look at me, Rosa.”
She trembled a little before obeying him.
“I will accompany you to the hospital. I need to make sure that you are really okay.”
Rosa nodded. “Sí.”
She let him wrap his arms around her as he carried her to the ambulance.
The scent of jasmine mingled with vanilla that clung to her hair tugged at some unfathomable memory. Rio pushed back the beginnings of fear at rediscovering his past when the ambulance moved. Would it be that bad if he remembered? What if his life had not been as rosy as his family had made it out to be? What if there were secrets? And a woman who smelled exactly like Rosa Cruz buried in his past? He caressed her face while deep in thought, unaware of what he was doing. She gasped suddenly, drawing him out of his thoughts. Her eyes were closed.

This was so interesting to read! I loved the setup, and am left with a million questions about what’s going to happen next! I’m so curious to know Rosa’s reasons for wanting to dupe him into a pregnancy? I’m hoping because she’s always loved him and wants to win him over, despite the memory loss – but then why not just seduce him into a relationship? Why the pregnancy angle? The mystery and suspense is killing me!! LOL

So much happens here. At first Rosa comes across badly with her trickery but then you give that quick flashback and reveal he has amnesia.
It seems their relationship was unhappy but she wants a child. Definitely loads of conflict potential as his memory returns.

I love your writing style, Sheritha! I absolutely adore your hero! 🙂 Would so love to find out how it all unravels. 🙂

You’ve picked a very interesting dynamic to explore here! The challenge with this theme is how to keep your heroine sympathetic when she’s deliberately taking emotional and sexual advantage of a man with amnesia – to pull this off and keep your reader on side with the heroine, more exploration of her motivations would have been good. For example, why is she doing this? What is her end goal? Why does she think this is justified? Why does she want to get pregnant? Delving more deeply into these reasons, so we understand why Rosa feels seducing him is her only course of action, is what will really help you pull off this ‘rescue’ scenario!

Thank you:-) this was my first romance story that got me noticed in the mills and boon new voices Africa contest. I’ve modified itna bit and turned it into a novella. I’m thinking of wiring a full love story now 🙂

Certainly a different take on romance and the heroine “getting her man,” Sheritha. That’s what helps to make this scene stand out even more.

This is a scene from the sequel to my SYTYCW15 entry. #spymaster
The numb swollen feeling in her hands was worse. The ropes cut into her wrists where they rested on the arms of the old fashioned wooden carver chair. The passing hours blurred as Miri fought to stay awake. Her neck ached on one side from dozing with her head drooping at an awkward angle. In the windowless room, lit by a single hanging bulb, there was nothing to tell her whether it was day or night.
It had been late Friday night when she’d stepped out of the Casino to be bundled unceremoniously into a black SUV. She must be still in Macau because they hadn’t crossed the water. It could have been hours, or days. Most likely days. The ammonia stink of her own urine saturating the silk of her gown bit at her nostrils, along with a hint of stale blood.
She swiped her tongue over her dry lips and tasted it. It was only a small cut, from when Darius back handed her, but it had bled freely. It was painful to move her jaw, but nothing was broken.
She jerked at the rattle of the bolt, sending shockwaves of pain up her arms. Her back muscles protested as she straightened, lifting her chin to meet the gaze of her captors.
Darius entered the room first, followed by Kara. She was wearing an elegant pant suit in navy. Her usual day time wear. Not that it helped much to decide if it were morning or night.
Something in the man’s half closed hand drew her eyes.
“What do you intend to do with me? You can’t keep me locked up forever.”
Darius laughed. There was a strained pitch to it. He didn’t do evil villain well. Kara on the other hand… She had it down pat.
Miri watched as the elegant fingers picked up the syringe.
“You are absolutely right. We can’t keep you here. In fact, in a few minutes, we’ll take you up to your suite and you can lie on that fabulous king size bed and this will be a bad dream.”
Her silken tones triggered goose-bumps on Miri’s already chilled skin.
“Why do I get the feeling this is not going to end well?”
“Because it isn’t.” She flicked the barrel of the needle with one blood red nail. “In the morning, the housemaid will find you on the bed. Another tragic death from an overdose. It happens so often, it probably won’t even make the news.”
Darius looked rather green. She’d thought him the strong one originally. Kara had played her subservient part so well.
Miri tried to relax her hands as those predatory fingers prodded at the veins inside her elbow. No way would she make it easy for the bitch.
Darius looked away as the fine metal pierced the skin. Coward. But it was something else. Kara turned her head. The noise of running feet came from the corridor outside the storeroom.
“Too late.” The plunger pumped the contents of the syringe into the vein.
Miri couldn’t feel anything. She didn’t know what to expect, or how fast but the cold was gone, the pain in her wrists fading.
The rush of footsteps became a roar or sound. Darius lay slumped across the floor. His suit will need cleaning. The room seemed full of men in black. Kara was backed up against the wall to one side, the syringe still in her hand.
A bubble of laughter froze in her throat as the leader crouched down in front of her. “Dmitri.”
His hands tore at the ropes. “We’ll get you out of here. An ambulance is on its way.”
“S’okay. I feel fine. Better than fine.”
“You don’t look fine.” He picked up her arm, examining the injection site.
“I hate you. I’ll hate you forever.”
“I intend to make sure you have the chance.”

A great scene, Fiona – full of tension and intrigue. Had me dying to know more about who Kara and Darius are, as well as Dimitri! Love the glimpse of their acrimonious shared past, great stuff.

Loved the comic relief, Fiona, among the taut tension — “His suit would need cleaning” — golden!

I had to sneak away from the party, as polite as everyone was being I could feel them watching me with questioning looks in their eyes. How had I managed to snag the most eligible man in town? Matthew had been an attentive host and tried not to leave my side until an urgent phone call that he had been forced to take. I had to try to fit in; this is Matthew’s world and not mine. I knew if I wanted to be a part of his life I would need to attend more of these functions but I needed five minutes by myself.
I opened the door of the library and slid inside. I had escaped here often over the months it’s my favourite room in Matthew’s house and I felt at home. I have always been amazed by the amount of books in here and now I know how he’s collected so many first additions. I moved across the floor and stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the silhouette of a man facing the fireplace.
‘Ah Siobhan, come in.’ Fear gripped my throat at Anthony Delaclare words. I turned around hoping I could back out of the room but I knew it was too late. ‘Don’t be afraid, I’m hardly going to harm you in Matthew’s house.’
‘So if you saw me on the street I wouldn’t be so safe?’ I asked, my stomach flipped with nervous. Matthew had warned me to stay away from Anthony Delaclare.
He chuckled but it sounded more sinister than anything else, sending a shiver down my spine. He turned to face me, the light from the fire silhouetting his body. In so many ways he is like Matthew over six foot tall and well-toned body, Anthony is blonde where Matthew is dark and any other time I would find him attractive, his blue eyes never quite held my attention. Every time I had met him he always scared the crap out of me and I didn’t know why, until I had found out Matthews secret.
In his hand he held a glass containing a red liquid and I couldn’t stop my gaze straying to hand. Sensing I was looking at it, he had drained the glass and set it down on the table.
‘I may be a lot of things Siobhan but rude is not one of them. I would not insult Matthew in that way. Why don’t we talk?’
‘There’s nothing to talk about, I’ve made my feelings clear.’
‘Ah such brave words but you’ll surrender to me eventually.’
‘I love Matthew,’ it was a simple fact, a statement that I had repeated over and again, still he played this game.
He moved so quickly that the room blurred before my eyes. I stiffened and waited for his next move. He circled around me, his breath hot against my neck.
‘Oh Siobhan, you’re so foolish. I can give you everything, an eternity.’
‘I have everything I need with Matthew. You talk of not being rude but here you are propositioning Matthew’s girlfriend in his house.’
He laughed and it echoed around the room. He cupped my face with is hand and I shivered. ‘You assume so much he will soon tire of you he always does. Your devotion’s so touching but you will be mine. One way or the other you will come to me.’ I tried so hard to squash down my fear that was the last thing that I wanted him to see.
‘No, you’re mistaken,’ my voice wobbled with my words and I tried to sound more confident than I felt.
He traced his finger down my throat and tilted my chin to look at him, ‘We can do this two ways, you come to me willingly and I will give you everything, if not I will make you suffer. Whichever way I will taste your sweet nectar but I want you to come to me willingly and be mine.’ His eyes seemed to burn into my soul and I my body wilt at his touch.
I knew I was in a dangerous position any longer with him under his intense gaze and I would do as he wanted. I would submit to him but I would be entranced rather than in love with him, I could only hope the love that I felt for Matthew would help me resist his charms.
‘I think it’s time for you to leave Tony,’ Matthew’s voice was ice cold. I jumped away from Anthony and my cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Anthony shrugged and moved away, as though he was unconcerned with our conversation. ‘I’ll see you again Siobhan.’
Matthew grabbed his arm, ‘Just so you know Siobhan is mine and if you go near her again I won’t be responsible for my actions.’
‘Oh Matthew such drama over a woman we’ve known each other too long for such dramatics. I don’t see your problem; we’ve shared women in the past.’ My eyes widened in horror at the thought.
‘That was in the past. Stay away Tony, this is the last time I will ask you, next time I won’t be so polite.’
Anthony nodded and left the room. I could tell from both men’s body language this wasn’t over by a long shot but I was madder at Matthew for insisting I was his.
He crossed the room and pulled me into his arms. My stomach flip flopped at his touch and I knew there was nowhere else I wanted to be. ‘Why did you tell him I was yours? You made me sound like a possession?’
‘Sweetheart, it’s a term I need to use in my world to protect you. Anthony Delaclare’s dangerous. You’re not my possession we’re a team.’
‘What about sharing? You know I can’t, I won’t do it…’
‘I wouldn’t expect you to and that was a long time ago when I was young and foolish. It simply isn’t going to happen. I won’t share you with anyone.’ He gazed at me and I could see the desire in his eyes.
‘Euew, no. There’s not a chance of that every happening.’ I couldn’t help biting my lip desperate for his kiss, his touch.
‘That’s my girl.’ His mouth had found mine, sending waves of desire through my body and for a moment my body responded to him as I leaned into him. His hands traced up and down my arms and I shivered at his touch. I’d broken our kiss and he looked at me with questioning eyes. There were questions I needed answering to.
‘Don’t distract me Matthew.’
‘Would I do that?’ He asked, with a arch of his eyebrow and a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
‘Yes you would. Why did you invite him into your house?’
‘The old saying is true keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer. I know he’s up to something I just need to find out what that is.’
‘He says I will be his.’
‘I heard what he said sweetheart and I will do everything I can to protect you.’
‘I was doing ok thank you,’ I snapped. I moved out of his arms and turned my back to him. I didn’t want him to see how embarrassed I was that a few more minutes and I would have been begging Anthony Delaclaire to take me on Matthew’s desk.
‘I know you were doing ok, I’ve seen lesser woman fall under his spell in less time than you were in the room with him. Tony can be very dangerous adversary when he wants something but I don’t think he’s so stupid as to cross me.’
I shivered at the thought of submitting to Tony, I know it wouldn’t be the same as being with Matthew. He would take what he wanted and then leave. I realised how much danger I had been in to be in a room alone with him. I felt Matthews hands on my shoulders and jumped at his touch.
‘Don’t be scared I’m here,’ he told me before turning me to face him. ‘I love you Siobhan but if you ever change your mind.’ He touched his head to mine.
I wrapped my hand around his and looked into his eyes. ‘I’ll never willingly change my mind. I’ve made my choice we’re in this together. We said forever.’
He kissed my forehead. ‘Forever is a very long time with me.’
‘It will never be long enough for me,’ I replied and touched his cheek with my hand. He pulled me into his arms and we clung together neither wanting to break the spell.

I got the sense that there was so much going on underneath, in the subtext of the story. I believe that there was a real history between these characters, and that helped make them seem real and vibrant. If this is a current WIP, the effort and attention to emotional detail shows.

It’s a great excerpt. I think you really portray how torn Siobhan is. She wants to be with Tony, but he’s dangerous and unpredictable. Matthew is the most eligible man around and a safe choice. She’s in emotional danger of making the wrong choice rather than physical danger.

Thanks for you comment Fallon, they are characters that have been playing around in my head for awhile xx

Ooh, intriguing! Like the power play between the two men, and how Siobhan fights her corner too. Lots of darkness and mystery here, Tony’s a great villain 🙂

Now that the festivities were over Dom finally had Jackie all to himself. He headed up towards the house and felt the curves of her hips as they swayed when she walked beside him. He longed to slowly lower the zip in the back of her dress to reveal her velvety skin and decided he couldn’t wait until they got back to her apartment.

“Lets go for a walk.” Dom said to Jackie. “I want to show you something.”

“Ohhh what?” Jackie felt excitement build in her body.

“Just wait here. I’ll be back in a minute. I need to grab a torch”

Dom disappeared inside the house before Jackie could question him further, leaving Jackie waiting on the patio just outside the entrance to the main house.
Jackie was starting to feel a little tired and was leaning against a brick wall when Philip Tyrell walked out of the house and strolled over towards her. Jackie could feel the panic as she froze in the spot that she was standing. Before she had a chance to move away from the wall to create an escape route, Philip had placed both hands on her shoulders and was holding her against the wall.

“You are such a little minx. You like to play games don’t you Jackie. I knew that, the first night I met you when you were dancing with me. You thought you could play me off against my son”

“Mr Tyrell you need to let me go now. You’re drunk.” Jackie had to gasp for air as Philip exhaled and the strong smell of whiskey and cigars enveloped her nose.

“Playing hard to get now eh. You should forget about Dom and come upstairs with me.” Philip had moved one of his hands behind her back and was pulling her towards him. Jackie placed both of her hands on his chest to try and push him away but he was holding her so strongly that she struggled to wrestle free. Philip started to lean in to kiss her. She turned her head and pulled it as far away as she could. Her hands were balled up against his chest, pushing with all her strength to try and release the grip he had on her. Panic was intensifying with each struggle.

“No! You need to let me go! I don’t want this!” Jackie felt like she was fighting for her life.

“Come on, I want to know what all the fuss is about. Just give me one little. . .”

Jackie felt Philip being wrenched away from her. As he was flung around, she saw Dom raise his fist and slam it into his father’s face.

“Get your filthy hands off her!” Dom had hit his father so hard that it spun him around as he fell to the ground with a whack. His head hit the rail on the way down and knocked him out cold.

The reality of what could’ve happened hit Jackie and she fell to the ground as her knees gave way.

“Jackie!” Dom cried. “Are you okay?” Dom rushed to her and dropped to the ground beside her. He took her into his arms and held her as the sobs started to consume her.

“Dom. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t . . . .” Jackie couldn’t finish the sentence as shock set in.

“It’s okay baby. Everything is okay now. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Dom was speaking softly and stroking her hair as he held her close to him. She couldn’t stop shaking even though it was a warm night and tears had started streaming down her face.

So glad Dom interrupted just then, Philip is awful!! Really like how their love is strong enough to override any family bonds.

Thank You all for the comments. this is just a snippet of some of the trouble Philip causes between Dom and Jackie.

(Historical-for a change)

London, 1850

Mahogany rail skating under her grip, Georgia Ann Summerhays took one tentative step after the other down the dimly lit staircase, hoping to catch the last post.
Half way down, she heard voices.
Hushed, male voices. Back and forth monotone sentences. Her silk slippers stilled on the worn tread and a stale odour of dust and dampness swirled up from the draft made by the sudden halt of her silk skirts.
She turned toward a sliver of flickering dull light seeping from under the library door.
It was bad manners to eves-drop but self-preservation held her there.
‘Dora poorly?’
Georgia gasped. Creepy Edwin Markham, her temporary host and late father’s solicitor, spoke with a hint of glee. She could almost see the lecherous gleam in his eye and feel his fingers twitching on her skin.
Edward Markham’s niece, Dora was supposed to accompany her on the long trip to her brother’s side in the colonies. The thought of being stuck in London until the next boat, six months on, sent a bolt of dread through her.
‘Yes, she’s in no condition to accompany your charge on the voyage to New Zealand. I insist she’s left where she is.’
Georgia hadn’t heard that younger sounding voice before. It had an unmistakeable edge of command and finality about it. Demanded to be listened to. And obeyed.
Tiny hairs rose on her arms.
‘Well, what do you propose?’
She tried and failed to swallow the sudden irritating, prickly dryness in her throat.
She should mind her manners and leave but this conversation was about her. If her companion wasn’t able to sail, that meant… she couldn’t go to Thomas. Her lifeline.
‘I forbid Dora to leave her sick bed, so what do *you* propose, Uncle?’
An unfamiliar sensation eased down her spine spreading warmth along her limbs as though someone had placed a shawl over her shoulders. He was on her side. Gracious, wouldn’t she love to have someone slay dragons for her with such passion⎯ make everything all right.
Despite her unexpected flush of warmth, reality made the the stairway bitterly cold. If she lingered any longer she might catch her death⎯well, at least that would solve all her problems.
‘Dora won’t be going anywhere, especially not to satisfy the whim of your charge.’
*Whim?* She was fast going off her dragon-slayer. He hadn’t met her, yet was being judgmental.
‘I’m not asking you to haul Dora out of her sick-bed to ply the high seas, Daniel. Miss Summerhays is practically destitute. Her brother is her only living relative.’ He cleared his throat.’ She could stay here, of course.’
There was a pause. The sound of pacing. Her heart thudded in her throat.
‘No, no, I’m sure you’ve done enough already. Gold fever is rife in the colonies. Don’t hold your breath waiting.’
Georgia sighed with relief. At least he’d attempted to save her from *that* fate. She shivered.
‘I do have an alternative, although unconventional.’
‘Since when did that bother you, young man?’
Georgia held her breath.
‘If your Miss Summer-whatever, must go, then I daresay she will be safe enough in my hands.’
Who was her would-be rescuer? Her arms crossed tight against her chest holding back an urge to barge through that door and remind them she wasn’t a bolt of fabric being dispatched to the colonies…

I suspect Daniel is some sea captain type. The long voyage to New Zealand should be interesting when he tries to treat Georgia like a bolt of fabric.
The danger is really high stakes if she doesn’t travel she might never see her brother again and end up destitute in London
Your descriptions and internal dialogue portray readily it is a historical. I hope you intend to finish this story.

Love the set-up, Margie! Love your characters too! Your portrayal of detail paints such a wonderfully vivid picture for the reader. 🙂

Such vivid descriptions, I could easily imagine the damp stairs and her silk skirt. Great writing.

You’ve got to love an eavesdropping heroine 🙂 You paint a compelling picture of the hero in only a few lines of overheard dialogue, along with the likely dynamic between Daniel and Georgia – great stuff!

Conan shrugged out of his suit jacket and was about to place it around Xara’s slender shoulders when the door to the log cabin burst open, startling them both.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding her.” A middle aged wiry man stood in the doorway with two other men at each side of him.
Conan’s tall athletic frame became rigid. How the hell had Xara’s step-father found them? He had been so careful to cover their tracks. Damn!
“Elliot? What’s the meaning of this?” Demanded Xara of her step-father.
“Why don’t you ask lover boy.” Elliot smirked nastily, coming further into the cabin followed by his thugs.
Xara turned to Conan, frowning questioningly.
“What’s the matter Conan? Lost for words?” jeered the older man. “What kind of a hit man are you anyway? I hired you to get rid of her not sleep with her.” Elliot’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Don’t tell me you’re a bad boy gone good…”
“What the hell do you take me for? I thought I’d have a bit of fun before I did the job.” Out of the corner of his eye Conan saw Xara stagger slightly. With each word that came out of his mouth he felt something twist inside of him. If he was to save Xara from the clutches of her greedy money grabbing step-father, he was going to have to hurt her himself.
“What’s going on Conan?” The words left her as a strained murmur.
“Your dear estranged step-father hired me to do you in so that the inheritance your mother left you, all goes to him. Is the picture clearer for you now?” A pulse jumped at his jawline as he held her tortured gaze.
“So… so you meeting me in the club last week and asking me out… and…”
“Sleeping with you.” Conan filled in brutally.
“Was all part of an elaborate plan to hurt me?”
“Got it in one babe.” he’d barely finished the last word when he felt a hand strike his cheek, hard. For someone so delicate, she sure packed a punch! She didn’t have to tell him how much she loathed him, he could read it in her glittering emerald eyes.
“I’ll do the job myself.” Eliot stated bringing out a gun and aiming it at Xara. With one swift movement, Conan grabbed the weapon off Elliot.
“Don’t be a fool.” Conan barked harshly as he watched the older man hold back his thugs. “Doing it this way is going to be messy. Let me do my job my way.”
Elliot glared at Conan, uncertainly.
“You know how I work.” Conan continued. “I’ll get the job done and you know it.”
“Get it done. Fast. You’ve got until tomorrow.” Elliot ordered before leaving with his thugs.
When the car drove off, Conan turned the gun on Xara. “Pack some of your things then get into my jeep without a fuss…”
“You’re out of your murderous head if you think I’ll do as you say!” Xara fumed. “You don’t frighten me!”
“It’s not me you should be afraid of, darling. I’m the one saving you from the big bad wolf.”

Poor Xara. She just lost her mother and now she thinks the man she connected with only wants to kill her.
Conan definitely saved her from danger and sounds really nice. I suspect ‘do it my way.’ is a euphemism for a HEA.
This looks like being a really romantic novel.

Conan’s going to have his work cut out getting Xara back on his side! We like how you play with the idea that to save her, he’s going to have to hurt her first – it’s very high-drama and really raises the emotional stakes!

“How dare you try to stop me marrying Christophe?”
Lexi stood there, framed by the doorway that had smashed open against the wall of Max’s office, her short white broderie anglaise shift dress riding up her curves as she slammed her hands on her hips, her red curls wild and her flushed face cute as hell and madder than all reason.
So Max took his time.
He leant back in his chair, stretched out comfortably and kicked one ankle over another, before undoing both buttons on his suit and sliding his hands into his trouser pockets. Then he cocked one eyebrow questioningly at her.
Judging by the anger in those gorgeous green eyes, this was going to be a moment like no other in their long history. But then he’d never banished one of her fiances on the eve of an engagement party before. He’d never felt she was in that much danger.
“I never actually said ‘you can’t’,” he corrected her mildly.
Her mouth opened in outrage. That perfect ‘O’ between cupid lips. Cherry red with passion on top. Damn it! If only she knew how distracting he found it when she did that. He leant forward and pulled the last of the vast pile of documents on his desk towards him and spent a moment studying it.
She was right in front of him now. “How can even you – you just had Security escort Christophe off the estate!”
“Hmmm, not exactly.”
“He just climbed aboard one of your helicopters, Max!”
“Yes, I heard it go.”
“Twenty minutes after talking with you!”
He looked up at her, mostly because he couldn’t resist it, and shrugged.
“Coincidence, perhaps?”
But, really, he wished he hadn’t teased her the minute the words were out of his mouth. Watching Lexi collapse suddenly into the chair opposite his, deflated by despair, wasn’t actually his idea of fun.
“He loved me so much! “
OK, he couldn’t stop his lips curled cynically at that, remembering the look on dear Christophe’s face when Max’s security guards had escorted the man and his sizeable cheque off the premises.
She caught his lips twisting and tried to look petulant but settled for resigned instead. It was one of the many things he liked about her. “You didn’t even leave him a chance to say goodbye, did you?”
“He didn’t seem in too much of a hurry when I suggested it, no.” he said gently.
“How much did you pay this time?”
“Well, obviously. You’d just have kept on raising the amount until he said yes, wouldn’t you?”

“It wasn’t a long negotiation, Lexi sweetheart.”
But then he’d started high, because he wanted to be sure of the result. He didn’t want the man anywhere near her. He’d also nearly hit Christophe when his eyes went wide at the sum Max was offering. She deserved so much better. She seemed to pick so much worse. Every time.
“So am I supposed to be grateful you made him an offer he couldn’t refuse?” she said with a sigh.
He let that one sit there. It didn’t really need an answer.
“You wouldn’t understand love if it smote you through the heart, Max. Your idea of romance is a long-legged lovely whose name you wouldn’t remember by the time breakfast is over.”
Which was an interesting take on his sex-free life of the past four years. Since Lexi had turned 18, in fact.

Thanks, Fi! I love the Writing Challenge! I also now want to meet Max IRL lol. Gotta be out there somewhere!

Love this! These are two really interesting characters (love Lexi’s penchant for high drama!) and Max comes across really well. Love the twist on how he rescues her, and really wanted to know what happened next!

Thanks so much, Sold Editors! We love you taking the time to do this – especially on top of all the SYTYCW15 reading!!! So glad Lexi works. She’s a wee devil and it takes a man like Max to handle her. Mx

Hugs, Calida! You just made my birthday 🙂 I’ll read everyone else’s later, hopefully. Off to have an actual writing day. Exciting! Mx

Hi Everyone. Thank you for the fabulous comments. I’m terribly sorry I didn’t reply. I will catch up on reading and replying this week. :-). Hugs****

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *