Fun fact about me, I never like to follow the pack when it comes to crafting stories. I'm never going to write a book simply because a fad is hot, and I will turn old tropes upside down just to keep things interesting. I like variety, if you couldn't tell by my near 30 titles. I'm all about the story and what makes that one particular story interesting. I'll write about vampires and billionaires if it strikes my fancy, but I'm not out to write "the next Twilight" or "the next Fifty Shades of Grey." Those stories already exist, so I have no interest to write a carbon copy. I do this out of respect both to the writers who wrote those books, as well as to the readers who came to love those stories. I'd rather give you something new than some watered down substitute. That's why I like to tweak expectations.
I'd rather blaze a trail than follow the leader, which motivates almost all of my stories. Basically I've taken Toni Morrison's writing advice to heart. (“If there's a book that you want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it.”) That's why I was writing about big girls getting love way before it was cool. I want to - need to - do something different.
You can't fling a dead cat in any direction in the romance section of a bookstore and not hit a book about a hot millionaire alpha and the young, clueless ingenue he decides to mold into his perfect mate. I've been reading that kind of story since I was eleven years old. And don't even get me started on Disney. Over and over and over and over again. Been there, done that. I've even written my fair share of books about it. Basically... I needed something new. That's why I decided to write a book where the millionaire alpha was the *woman* rather than the guy.
Let's face it. Money is power. Whoever has the most of it can dominate the relationship, and I personally like to see a little variety in this fantasy. I blame this on my being an alpha female myself. Yes, power is sexy. And yes, it would take a very powerful alpha indeed to dominate me, and I'm sure if I ever found him he would be hot as hell. But that's not really what trips the trigger. The battle to take control and retain it is sexiest of all, and I prefer sex to be a dance, rather than a march. I want to see my couples battle it out endlessly, twisting and turning and flipping the script so that all the lines are deliciously blurred.
I'll give you an example. One of the hottest scenes I've ever seen in a movie was in the 1984 romantic suspense movie THIEF OF HEARTS. If you haven't seen it, a notorious cat burglar robs an affluent San Francisco couple. The wife (Mickey) had become dissatisfied in the marriage, thanks to a neglectful work-a-holic husband, and had taken to her diary to record all her lascivious fantasies. The cat burglar, Scott, played by the smoking hot 80s hunk Steven Bauer, discovers these diaries and - because he finds the wife smoking hot as well - decides to bring all her fantasies to life. He arranges what seems to be a serendipitous meeting, and they begin a work relationship from there. (She's an interior designer, and wouldn't you know it? He happens to need his loft redecorated. How convenient.)
After having been robbed, Mickey is feeling a little vulnerable. When she finds his gun, Scott decides to take her to the shooting range so she can reclaim a little bit of her power. He teaches her to shoot, which is intimate in and of itself. He's behind her, his hands on her body, commanding her in her ear. Meanwhile she's shooting this pistol that she could turn on him at ANY moment. He has given her complete control of the situation, but that doesn't stop him from letting his hands wander liberally over her body. She's in control, but she's not. He's not in control, but he is.
SO FREAKING HOT.
I was probably 15 years old when I first saw this movie and it lodged into my head as pretty much the sexiest thing ever. I try to recapture this in my own stories on the regular, simply because nothing is hotter to me than that battle for power. That give and take. The yin and yang of submission and dominance. Hence why I don't do traditional B&D stories, nor would I. It can pepper the gumbo, but I need there to be a balance of power in order for there to be true seduction.
Nowhere do I do this better than in THE UNDISCIPLINED BRIDE. Peyton Prescott is a spoiled little brat, who expects everything to go her way. She's used to throwing her weight around, courtesy of her daddy's big bank account. This socialite gets everything she wants whenever she wants it, and pretty much thinks life is supposed to work out that way for her.
Trouble is... she really doesn't know what she wants. When you can have anything, anything loses its appeal. The only thing that really has any appeal at all is the thing she can't have. Enter Mateo Bravo, a cocky working-class caterer, who has a serious axe to grind when it comes to the upper classes. When he sees that she wants him despite everything that should keep her away (his piddly bank account, her rich fiance,) he decides to teach this rich bitch a lesson the only way he knows how: between the sheets.
Of course, that's the way I wanted it to go. Mateo had other ideas. I intended this book to be an erotic romance with lots of sex, but Mateo was in the driver's seat from the beginning. He not only made Peyton wait, he made me wait.
Again... HOT AS HELL.
But of course this is one of my books, so I got to wrangle a story out of there. (I am THE Alpha, after all.) He learns a thing or two himself, mostly courtesy of his sister, Naomi, who gets an unexpected love affair of her own. (Seriously... it surprised even me.)
I set this story in Houston, since I'm a Texas girl and I wanted to play around in my own back yard for a bit. As I dove into Texas high society, and the good ol' boy network that entails, I figured out a lot about Peyton I wasn't expecting to learn. Honestly I couldn't stand her at first. I knew I wanted to make her a bridezilla from hell - mostly because I find that dynamic interesting and I wanted to get to the bottom of it. What I learned instead is that Peyton was a lot more dimensional than I ever expected her to be. Wearing her skin and getting into her head, I started to see the world through her eyes and I understood why she did the things she did - even if I didn't always agree with it.
I went into the story empathetic mostly to Mateo, who had worked his butt off to try and make a catering business work with his sister. They faced a lot of obstacles making their dream come true, mostly because of the color of their skin. His anger was my anger. He didn't want to sell out or to play nice to the people who wanted to railroad him just because they could. He wanted to take some control, which is a perfectly natural response when you're virtually powerless.
Peyton's interest gave him an 'in.' When you're a man with an agenda, you take it.
This is one of my stand-alone novels, which means you get the story resolved in one book. Though, with the appearance of Graham Baxter in Chapter Eleven, I wouldn't be a bit surprised if you see these folks again in the future.
If I could cast the movie, William Levy gets my vote as Mateo.
I'd also cast Blake Lively as Peyton, Sandra Vergara as Naomi and Elisha Cuthbert as Lissette. I've done everything to make this a movie short of writing a screenplay, but the year is still young.
Here's a snippet.
“From the unused feel of your kitchen, I guess we’ll start with the basics. This,” he held up the pan, “is a pan. It is commonly used to heat food.”
She crossed her arms in front of her. “There’s no need to patronize me, Mr. Bravo.”
He grinned. “I like the sound of that coming from your lips, Miss Prescott.” He put the pan on the counter and walked over to where she stood. He grabbed her hands in his, turning them over to inspect their softness. “You’ve never even washed a dish, have you, Princess?”
Her eyebrow arched defiantly. “That’s what I pay other people to do.”
His dark eyes glittered as he stared down at her. She felt like she hit a nerve, but he was decidedly pokerfaced. “Better watch out,” he said in the same good humor. “You leave enough chores to the hired hand, and your husband may run off with a maid who isn’t too good to get her hands dirty.”
She snatched her hands back, which made Mateo smirk even more. He turned back to the sink, filling the pan with water. He placed it on the stove, turning the heat up to medium. He then leaned against the counter and crossed one foot over the other to watch her. Long moments passed without his saying a word. He just inspected her from where he stood. His eyes traveled over her face, down her exposed décolletage, and down toward her endless legs, shown off by the short hem of her skirt.
The longer he didn’t say anything, the antsier she got. She ended up crossing her arms across her chest, which she had originally bared for his benefit. To have him so brazenly inspect the goods without crossing the four feet between them made her feel cheap somehow. And she didn’t like it.
So she turned the tables on him and inspected his form as well. Every inch of clothing he wore clung to his body, which even in a relaxed state showed off the impressive cut of his muscular form. His thighs were powerful and strong, and his chest strained against the thin cotton fabric of his T-shirt. The bulge in his pants hinted at a promise not yet fulfilled, and the longer they stood there in that awkward silence made her fidget even more. It was as if both of them were fantasizing about taking that next step, without either of them lifting even a finger to close the gap between them and act on the undeniable chemistry that crackled in the air.
She could easily imagine walking over to him, or he to her, and stepping into that strong circle of his arms. He would lift her up on the counter and step easily between her legs, which would close behind him until her ankles locked. He’d dive into her neck, nuzzling against the graceful slope, nibbling at her lightly scented skin as her fingers crawled down his back and up again under his shirt.
She could practically feel his solid muscles under her fingers, which curled in a tight attempt not to rush over to where he stood and climb him like a jungle gym.
His eyes were dark and from the hint of a smirk he wore, she knew that he was following her thoughts exactly. The longer they stood there, the more they indulged this erotic game of chicken. Neither was ready to yield the power to the other by making the first move.
Instead they stood four feet apart the entire ten minutes it took the water to boil. When he moved to turn off the burner, she actually took a breath in relief. He moved the pan onto another, cool burner, then he crossed over to where she stood. “Lesson one: how to boil water,” he said with a slight grin. Softly he added, “You just have to leave things alone until they get hot enough.”
She gulped. Just as she was about to respond, assuming that the seduction part of their evening had commenced, Mateo turned for the door. “Tomorrow night we’ll talk about something more advanced. Like melting butter.”
She was flabbergasted as she chased him to her front door. “Are you kidding me? An entire lesson on how to boil water?”
He shrugged as he tossed, “Like I said, we have to start with the basics,” over his shoulder. He didn’t stop until he got to the door, which is where Peyton finally cornered him.
“If you think I’m paying $1500 for a couple of ten minute lessons, you’re crazy.”
Another damnable shrug. “You agreed to two lessons per week at that rate. Nothing was ever said about their duration.” He paused as he looked down at her. “But you’re right. We haven’t taken care of everything.”
He shut the door and then turned to face her. As he advanced toward her, she unconsciously took steps backward until he had her pressed up against the wall. His head dipped toward hers until their mouths were a breath apart. She felt the hard lines of his body pressing into hers as he held back his kiss in sweet torture. Finally she gasped, “What do you want?”
He bent even closer until their lips nearly met. “The check,” he said with that evil grin.
With an angry snarl she pushed him away. “Fuck you,” she said again, and again he replied, “Maybe someday. But not today.”
The door closed silently behind him as he departed, leaving Peyton speechless and frustrated as she scrambled with what to do next.
A song from the playlist...
And for today only, you can get THE UNDISCIPLINED BRIDE free! It's rated 4.3 stars out of 5.0 on Amazon, and it's one of my many books free to read through Kindle Unlimited. So if you want to read something a little different, if you have an open mind, Mateo awaits. Enjoy the dance. ;)
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