By
B. D. Storey (Guest Author)
I
like to think I am just your normal, average guy. My wife will tend
to disagree, but she's biased. So, given that, how did this guy end
up writing a romance story? We're not talking a small love story to
the wife, or a bit of doodling while at lunch. We're talking about a
full blown, 104,000 word novel that just fell out of my head and onto
the computer.
Maybe
a bit more about myself will provide clarity. I am a romantic. Okay,
that statement may blow away your image of "average guy",
but I like to think we men do understand romance and being romantic,
however, society and our buddies may frown on displaying it!
Anyway,
I'm a sucker for a happy ending and any romantic subplot. My wife and
I play a few online role playing games, go to DragonCon, have
lightsabers, etc. We are geeks. I play lots of console games. While I
enjoy a good shoot-'em-up as well as the next gunslinger, I really
enjoy the games with a story to it, especially if there is a romantic
sub-plot available. If the character can pursue a romantic
relationship with another character, I'm in. If there are multiple
options as a partner, I'll play the game over and over just to see
each relationship and the dialogue that the storyteller came up with.
He or she put a lot of effort into that story, and I want to read it
and see it play out.
In
our online role-play games, we joined a group of like-minded people
and we all played together. Over the years, we became a family. We
met once a year in real life. We visited each other's homes all
across the US. From that camaraderie was born my love to write. I
teamed up with others and wrote long, winding stories of adventure
and even love. We're talking thousands and thousands of words over a
15-year span of time.
We
had a separate chat channel setup just for role play. We called it
the Guild Stage. We let everyone know when a production was going to
be on so they could make popcorn and watch. We loved roleplaying and
forming relationships between characters. Imagine "watching"
a female dwarf and a male barbarian roleplay a dinner at the local
tavern, that entertains the other players, all while knowing that
both characters are being played by men! Boggles the mind, doesn't
it?
I
tell you all of this to get you ready for how we ended up where we
are. My wife and I love the Hallmark Channel. Love watching those
great, feel-good shows. We have our favorite actors and actress
combos, and ones we don't like. You pretty much know how a HC story
is going to end within the first ten minutes, but it's fun to see how
it gets there!
Anyway,
last July, while watching yet another HC movie, I turned to my wife
and said "You know, I could write one of these. It's got your
guy, gal, plot, angst, makeup, and the happy ever after. I could do
that."
She
pondered for a moment, then nodded and said "Yep, I bet you
could. You've done it before with the others, just not in a formal
way."
"I'd
make it a bit more edgy than HC, but I could do it." I said,
nodding. I then set my back brain to working on ideas.
A
few days later, basic story idea in hand, I hunkered down at my
computer, opened up an editor, and away I went. By Christmas, I had
the first major draft done and I began editing, reviewing, rewriting.
I focused a ton of effort on details and continuity.
In
February, I enlisted the aid of two young ladies I knew from one of
my favorite urban fantasy authors Facebook
groups. They do a lot of alpha/beta reading for other authors in that
genre as well as romance. I sent them the first four chapters to see
if what I had was workable. Their response blew me away. That first
response was "You're going to publish this, right?"
followed by "Dude, you're a romance writer!!"
Over
the course of the next month, these two thirty somethings educated me
on the world of writing romance. When you're a sixty-year-old guy,
and a thirty-something tells you "You're writing like a Dad.
Loosen up!" you tend to sit up and listen. They helped me with
naming my characters with a more modern flare, bringing my "language"
more up to date, and telling me which phrases and words I were to
never use again. My male ego was taking some hits, but my inner
romantic told me to shut up and listen.
By
March, I had what I felt was a better story. I enlisted the aid of
three more readers, one of which was my wife.
"Wait,"
you ask, "Your wife had not read it YET?"
No,
she had not. My wife, being an all-knowing individual and knowing me
so well, knew that if she got involved, it would hurt our
relationship because I would take her comments personally. And she is
right. She's also a grammar nazi, and would let every small grammer
mistake of the draft pull her out of the story. So, she waited,
patiently, while I chomped at the bit to get her input.
I
released it to her, along with a 27-year-old master librarian who ran
her college newspaper, and one of my wife's friends, who is also an
inspiring author. These three ladies ate my lunch on grammar. My two
alpha readers focused on story, not grammer. These three new ladies
made up for that. Who knew a comma could be so misused?
But,
for me, what I heard from them was that the story was good. Really
good. They pointed out some places where the reader got pulled out of
the story because I tried to get cute. I was smacked and told to
rewrite. I rewrote.
By
May, I had a completed project. I had written my story. I was happy
with it and I had done what I set out to do. Now was the big
question. What next? Talked to my wife, did some research, and we
decided to self publish. How hard could it be, right? Yes, I know.
Famous last words, right up there with "Hold my beer …"
An
editor was hired (she was also an author), as well as a cover artist.
The editor helped me polish and buff, and the cover artist gave me a
beautiful wrapper. Software was purchased to help make publishing
easier, accounts were created with the big distributors. I had
already joined several Facebook groups dealing with romance and
marketing romance. I felt I was good to go. Go ahead, keep laughing.
I'll wait.
Anyhoo,
I felt I needed to do more. If I was going to give this romance
writing gig a good shot, I needed more knowledge. So I joined the
Romance Writers of America. It was at that point that my wife took my
man-card, painted it pink and only lets me have it when farm chores
need to be done. I'm okay with that.
But
it doesn't end there. I live near Nashville, TN. The RWA is having a
summer retreat from 14-17 July in Nashville. I signed up to attend.
There was a forum set up for the event where the attendees could
introduce themselves. To date, I appear to be the only guy signed up.
I showed my wife some of the successful authors who are going to be
there. She just laughed and said "Those ladies are going to eat
you alive." Fear is a good thing, right?
So,
there you have it. A challenge was set, a project created, and a book
ready to be published. Will it be successful and sell a bazillion
copies? Don't know. To be honest, if it doesn't, it's not a deal
breaker. Oh, my ego will be bruised, but that wasn't the point. The
challenge was in the doing. Some will like it, some will not, and
that's okay too.
That's
the story of how this sixty-year-old dad (as of July 8th) ended up
writing a romance novel. Will I do another? More than likely. I
enjoyed the writing and the collaboration, as well as the whole
creative process. I think I have a few more ideas left in me.
But,
enough about the process. What is Fate
Takes A Hike?
Let's give a brief look at Josie and Jacob, the main characters of
the story.
Josie
Callison was a single mother of one, living
with her mom in Azton, WA, where she grew
up. The past
few years
had been hard on Josie. First she lost her husband suddenly. A year
later, her father passed away quietly in his sleep. It seemed only
right to move back
home to
help her mother with the struggling family business
and take time to heal and raise her daughter.
Jacob
Berman,
widower and former soldier,
has
seen
his share
of death, the latest
being the loss
of his wife
and child.
Living
alone and keeping
mostly to himself gave
him time
to work
on the plan made by him and his wife for their future in Azton.
Swearing off dating ensured
that nothing
else could cause
his heart
and soul
any more pain.
On
that clear and beautiful Saturday, neither expected
to be falling
down a hill
or rescuing
a damsel in distress. But, as we all know,
Fate
rarely
asks
us for our input when planning our lives. When Fate decides that two
broken hearts can heal each other, it will use all the tools at its
disposal to put those hearts on the same path. That includes a
demonic
rabbit intent on hiker mauling.
What?
A quick synopsis is not enough you say? Okay, how about a
chunk from Chapter
1?
CHAPTER
1
Josie
I
shook the small handheld GPS unit in an attempt to make it work.
“You’ve
got to be freaking kidding me! I will smash you into a million
pieces, you worthless hunk of plastic!”
The
small, yellow electronic devil was obviously unimpressed with my
threat and mocked me with its refusal to comment. Looking up at the
sky, I almost asked the heavens, ‘What
next?’
But I didn’t want to tempt fate. Little did I realize at the time
that the heavens could read minds, and fate could be a real bitch.
Sighing
like a teenager being asked to do the dishes, I shoved the worthless
plastic demon into my backpack and pulled out my trusty old compass.
Flipping open the lid, I began turning in a small circle, talking to
myself while the needle danced inside its glass case.
“Okay,
let’s see,” I muttered to myself. “If that’s north, then that
way is west and towards the lake. If I can make it to the lake, I
should be able to get to the marina and use their phone.”
I
nodded to myself, taking a deep, calming breath. This was good.
Everything was going to be okay.
“I’m
going to call Brianna Cranston and give her a piece of my mind. Wait,
no. First, I’m going to get her to come pick me up and take me to
my car, and while she’s driving me to it, then I’m going to give
her a piece of my mind. She’ll be trapped then and can’t escape
my wrath. Nice plan, Josie. Less walking, more righteous
satisfaction.”
Brianna
had been the one to talk me into this jaunt when I should
have been helping Mom with the store. I knew that somewhere in those
spreadsheets and invoices was the answer to our financial situation,
something that would pull us up out of the hole we were spiraling
into.
Apparently,
I had been getting a tad bitchy with folks lately. Brianna cornered
me in my small office Wednesday. Mom apparently let her slip back to
harass me.
“Girl,
you need to get away from the sheets of numbers and clear your head
before you bite one of your worker’s—or worse, Kaylin’s head
off,” she told me, crossing her arms and skewering me with an icy
glare.
I
scrubbed my tired eyes, glancing up at her. “I don’t have the
time. We’re losing money every day and if I don’t figure out how
to stop it, Mom and I are toast.”
Brianna
began lecturing me, using her finger like a conductor’s baton. “Get
your lazy butt out in the woods. You and your dad loved the woods and
trails around here. Hell, you were a tomboy for most of your time
here. Get out there, walk among the trees, and clear your mind. Maybe
an acorn will fall on that head of yours and give you the idea you
need!”
I
had reluctantly agreed, more to get her to leave and to stop her
nagging. And I had to admit … she had a point. I needed a break.
Putting
my compass in the pocket of my shorts, I began walking in the right
direction, only slightly limping, thanks to the blister on my heel.
Normally, I’d have fixed it with some moleskin, but since I was in
such a hurry to leave this morning, I neglected to pack my first aid
kit.
My
pack contained everything else I might need. Bear whistle, snacks,
water, and dry socks. I even had a copy of Cosmo
that I had filched from the beauty shop. Figured it could double as
emergency toilet supplies should the need arise.
No
GPS, no moleskin, a squishy blister on my heel, and still a long way
from my car. The day was just a winner all the way around.
“Just
you wait, Brianna, I’ve got two sweaty socks with your name written
all over them!”
I
chuckled evilly at the thought of taking off my boots in her car and
launching an odoriferous attack. If I were lucky, she’d puke. Hey,
if you can’t make your best friend puke, why are they your bestie?
While
I might have thought Brianna gagging on sweaty socks would be funny,
what galled me the most was that she was right.
About
an hour into the hike this morning, I realized I actually felt
better. The rich smell of the trees and the sounds of nature slowly
eroded my stress level, lowering it to what most folks considered
normal. I was bordering on darn near relaxed. Even with the blister
and the evil GPS unit, I was feeling better than I had in several
weeks.
“Okay,
Brianna, maybe no socks this time.” Nodding to myself, I continued
on down the trail.
After
another thirty or so minutes of walking, I came to a ridgeline.
Taking a moment, I glanced down into what appeared to be about a
fifty-foot drop-off. It wasn’t a straight drop, more of a steep
downhill, something you might ski on if there were snow, and if you
didn’t mind rocks and trees at the end of your run. Unhooking my
water bottle, I took a small sip as I drank in the panoramic view. I
could just see the lake on the horizon. Clipping the water bottle
back to my pack, I took a deep, refreshing breath.
“Finally,
something is going my way.”
I
began walking along the edge, hoping to find a way down that looked
less like a blue diamond run and more like a bunny slope. I enjoyed
skiing, but the lack of skis and snow put a damper on shooshing down
the ledge. With my luck today, I’d fall and break an ankle.
At
that exact moment, the heavens showed me that they had been paying
attention to my thoughts. Just as I walked near a patch of scrub
brush, a small rabbit burst out of it right at my feet, moving as if
it was late for something.
Like
any red-blooded girl seeing something that looks like a mouse on
steroids flying at her, I screamed and high-stepped away from the
impending rodent mauling that I just knew was coming my way.
Unfortunately,
in my adrenaline-fueled rush to escape, I forgot about the ridgeline
I had been admiring. I screamed again as I toppled over the edge. I
smashed flat on my side and began tumbling end over end as the loose
rocks and dirt gave way. I saw ground, sky, ground and then felt a
sharp burst of pain in my leg and a punch to my stomach.
I
barely had time to think, “Ow … shit,”
before blackness took me.
* * * *
Well,
that's the start. What happens next? How bad is she hurt? Will the
bunny return to finish the job? Only way to find out is to buy the
book. It is available for pre-order, with an August 6, 2021, release
date, at the following locations:
Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B098LY894N
B
& N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/2940162459859
Kobo:
http://store.kobobooks.com/en-CA/ebook/fate-takes-a-hike
Every
book usually ends with a bit about the author. This one should be no
different.
I
grew up in a pretty typical Southern household. An Army brat, I was
born in Germany and spent my formative years moving around the
country from post to post, never going to the same school twice until
my father’s retirement.
A
typical teenager of the 70’s, I spent hours playing baseball,
tennis, band, and dumping hard earned quarters into arcade games.
I
retired from the Air Force in 2000 and began working in the
technology department of the Nashville Sheriff's office, where in 21
short months I will retire again.
A
lover of both PC and console games, I've spent many hours immersed in
the lands of role playing and make-believe with friends and family.
This is where my love of writing took off as me and my online friends
spent hours writing epic tales of fantasy, love, and adventuring. Oh,
and dragon slaying. One can’t forget that.
I
am married to my best friend and love, Pam. We live on a small farm
in Clarksville where Pam keeps me busy with the multitude of chores
that come with having three horses and four cats. We have three great
kids who are the lights of our life.
Some
of my favorite romance authors are Nicholas Sparks, Abby Jimenez,
Claire Kingsley, and Maria Luis.
That's
a wrap!
Website:
https://BDStorey.com
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/BDStoreyAuthor/
Instagram:
https://instagram.com/BDSwritings
Author
Page: https://www.amazon.com/B.D.-Storey/e/B098M4VGNN
