Guest Blog: Doris O’Connor
Tortured Heroes by Doris O’Connor
As a reader I love a tortured hero and as an author I love writing them even more. I call them the two T’s tall and tortured—a must have. Every one of the heroes I have ever written could be summed up by that description, but I think Lucas may be the most tortured yet. I didn’t quite realise how tortured he was until I sat down to write his story. As he slowly revealed his past, I shed a few tears for my delicious vamp and at times wanted to jump into the manuscript and give him a big hug.
I can see you all backing away slowly now. Stay away from the crazy lady. He’s your hero, why didn’t you change things? Well, the jury is out still on the crazy part, but as for changing things, that’s not that easy. My stories are entirely character driven and when I don’t do as I’m told, then they stop talking. And when a character reveals his past, well that’s just it, his past. I couldn’t change it. He wouldn’t be who he is today.
As you may have guessed my characters are very real people to me and I try very hard to do them justice on paper so to speak. I will leave it up to you to decide whether I’ve succeeded with Lucas. His inner struggle is one of the things that my heroine Coralie can really relate to, and is ultimately what wins her over, as they strive to connect emotionally when the odds are stacked against them.
I leave you with a little snippet of the start of that connection.
The fury and barely controlled violence radiating off Lucas made Coralie swallow nervously. He watched her warily, hands pushed into the back pockets of his jeans, his muscles straining the material of his tee. Damn it, it just wasn’t fair. Even after everything that had happened her body reacted to him instantly. She straightened her shoulders and crossed her arms over the soft robe and glared at the man watching her with an unblinking gaze.
“Where the hell are my clothes? How dare you…” Heat rose in her cheeks, when she realized it must have been him undressing and washing her. And why the fuck didn’t she have any memories of that? The last thing she remembered was Lucas fighting with the fairy and Carmen’s cruel laughter.
“They reeked of fairy, as did you. Forgive me for taking care of you and saving your life – again. How dare I indeed? Next time I happen to find you in deadly peril, I’ll just leave you to it, shall I, Chere?”
The growled endearment settled somewhere perilously close to her heart and Coralie’s conscience chose that moment to whisper in her ear. Shame flooded her and she dropped her gaze to the floor. Her mum would be turning in her grave right now. Lucas’s frustrated sigh and mumbled words of French made her bare toes curl into the plush cream carpet. She could almost hear her mother berate her. “It doesn’t matter one iota what somebody looks like, what race he is or what his reputation is like. Sweet words are easy and mean nothing. What matters is inside and actions speak louder than words, so remember that in future, Coralie.”
Her mother’s wise words increased her discomfort. Vampire or not, he had saved her life twice. Shit, he almost killed himself trying to convince her that he hadn’t turned her. And as despicable as his actions in Carmen’s presence seemed, Coralie was still alive and relatively unharmed, the chunk of lost time and the big black hole in her recent memory notwithstanding. Had he caused that memory loss?
Lucas had moved away from her to the bar at the other side of the living area. He had his back to her and she allowed her eyes to feast freely. The dejected slump of his big shoulders and the heavy-handed way in which he poured himself a straight Scotch spoke of deep-seated wariness and her whispering conscience settled in the pit of her stomach with intensity.
“I’m sorry.” His head shot up at her whispered words and he turned around slowly. Coralie’s heart gave another little lurch inside her tight chest when she saw the swirling emotions in his brilliant green eyes.
“Don’t.” He ran one hand through his hair, making the slightly damp strands stick up and Coralie’s heart skipped another beat. He looked to the floor and the white-knuckled grasp on his glass lessened slightly. “You’re right. I am a monster who shouldn’t exist. I don’t blame you, running from me. Most people do and with good reason. The fact that I need to drink their blood is usually an instant conversation stopper.”
His eyes briefly flickered to her face. He swore and threw the glass in his hand against the nearest wall with such force it shattered into a gazillion pieces. Coralie jumped at the display of violence and he swore again.
“Merde, Chere, I so want to take that look out of your eyes, but I can’t.”
You’d think a three thousand year old vampire would believe in forever. Not Lucas. He has an escaped demon to hunt and no time for the follies of humankind. When strip-o-gram Coralie arrives on his boat, she awakens human instincts long buried, and protecting her becomes of paramount importance.
Coralie, standing in for a friend, is mortally embarrassed at having stumbled onto the wrong boat. The vampire wannabe she encounters makes her body sing in ways she never thought possible. Finding out that he is indeed the real thing throws everything she ever believed in into doubt.
With the demon closing in and the future of humanity in peril will they manage to find their forever?
Glutton for punishment would be a good description for Doris… at least that’s what she hears on an almost daily basis when people find out that she has a brood of nine children, ranging from adult to baby and lives happily in a far too small house, cluttered with children, pets, dust bunnies and one very understanding and supportive husband. Domestic goddess she is not.
There is always something better to do after all, like working on the latest manuscript and trying not to scare the locals even more than usual by talking out loud to the voices in her head. Her sexy Alpha heroes and sassy heroines tend to be pretty insistent to get their stories told, and you will find Doris burning the midnight oil on a regular basis. Only time to get any peace and quiet and besides, sleep is for wimps. She writes contemporary, erotic and paranormal romance.
German born, Doris now resides in the middle of a busy town in Bedfordshire/England and dreams of a nice big house by the sea, with plenty of space to run kids and dogs and let her imagination soar.
Find Doris on the web here:
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Details of the tour stops can be found here. http://www.writermarketing.co.uk/prpromotion/blog-tours/currently-on-tour/doris-oconnor/