Flash, part-stories, short stories
The name’s Bleu, Viola Bleu.
I’m on a mission, to research the dark streets in the outskirts of Milan to find my main character for my second novel.
I will know him when I see him, the angle of the jaw has to be just right; not merely stubble-covered. His lips will be kissable and at peace with themselves; not babbling away delivering meaningless twaddle to unsuspecting females.
His name may or may not be Hugo, but when he comes alive off the page, men will want to be him and women will simply want him.
When he kisses the love interest, he will pause just before the inevitable meeting of skin, delighting in that electric moment of anticipated yet unknown territory.
When I say ‘research’ I refer to observations of appearance, clothing and general attire. Attitude towards fellow man. I research from afar, taking mental notes at all times. I do the dreaming and scheming later.
I printed all 9 parts of Radhanagari Damsel … and gave it to a trusted friend to cast her eye over. What started as a response to a wordprompt grew into a small serial shall we call it. I did not plan its progress, and I believe that failure is starting to manifest itself.
However, my friend loved it and wants more! She wants John’s background, his days in the army and his relationship troubles to be exposed.
Getting to know a character from a book is imperative if a reader’s eye is to stay with you, the writer. Readers are fickle beings. If boredoms creeps in, they’re gone, like the proverbial fly you just spent eighteen seconds stalking, swat held aloft. Bastard.
Sex sells. Always did. Always will.
However, I wish to bring chemistry alive on the page. That raw, tingling sensation we humans feel when that connectivity is at play, and our pupils have dilated, the breathing rate increases and adrenalin is starting to reach the ends of our fingertips which buzz with delight.
I noticed a few potentials while we sipped cocktails (and sipping is the only thing to be done with a VM) .. one tall male, wearing rolled up jeans and DMs, a long black wool coat with the collar turned up. His almost bald head lowered towards his prey who leant back against the bar brick wall. They both smoked and giggled but her red curls failed to mask the need in her eyes as she cutely looked up at him through her locks. He knew it and did not glance even once anywhere else. She had his focus; and he was a slave to it. Biology unfolding right in front of us.
Yes they may have coupled later in private, but for me, the sexy part is that which precedes it…..