By Lisa Hughey
Hello Red Feather Romance followers! Thanks so much to Red Feather Romance for having me. Since it’s that time of year, I thought I would share my views on Valentine’s Day.
Valentine’s Day comes with a lot of expectations and sometimes misguided attempts to be romantic. We get sold by candy makers and floral companies to give gifts. And while chocolate and roses are always nice, they are also the easy choice. I also think that love isn’t about being kind, romantic, or loving one day a year. It’s the recurring little moments that make a relationship strong. This isn’t to say that big gestures aren’t always fun, because of course they are. And I never turn down roses or chocolate. Ever.
I met my husband in college (many years ago, how many we won’t discuss) and he has always made me laugh. He totally gets me. Sometimes we celebrate Valentine’s Day, sometimes we don’t. Usually, it depends on our schedules and our finances that month. But one of the most romantic things he does for me is bring me coffee in bed. Almost every day. That totally works for us.
Because I believe, just like romance novels, love is subjective. I try to write about two people who are perfect FOR EACH OTHER.
My book in the #MeetCute Romance series features D’Andre Smith, a former NFL wide receiver with a secret, and Elise Putnam, a burgeoning reporter with a need to prove herself. From the moment they meet, their attraction is off the charts, even though for multiple reasons, they should be off limits to each other.
D’Andre loves his mother. She supported him working two jobs so that he could pursue a football career and now he takes care of her. She also hates reporters, so when she catches D and Elise at lunch he does the only thing he can do. He lies and tells his mother Elise is his lunch date. She agrees to go along with the deception, but for a price.
Here’s an excerpt of Everything He Wants:
D pulled out his phone and clumsily texted his momma a good morning.
Predictably, his phone rang. “Hi, Momma.”
“You know I don’t like that texting. Why don’t anyone just pick up a phone and call anymore?”
D’Andre sighed. “I didn’t want to bother you.”
“Talkin’ to my baby boy is never a bother.” She sniffed.
He was six four and two hundred seventy pounds, down thirty from his NFL career days, but to his mother he was still her baby.
“Thanks, Momma.” His voice softened and his mouth curved. “Everything okay there?” He’d bought her the house in Brookline with his signing bonus ten years ago.
“The newfangled dishwasher is running rough.”
“I’ll get a repairman out there first thing.”
“Anything for you,” D’Andre said softly. His mother had sacrificed her best years to support him. Now it was his turn. “What’s on your agenda for today?”
His mother kinda sounded like she was huffing and puffing. “Meeting some girls from church for an early birthday lunch.”
A rustling behind him caught his ear and D turned around to see a stunning woman approaching his table.
Once during his rookie year in the NFL, he’d taken a hit so hard he’d been flat out on his back, the turf prickling his calves, breath clawing to escape his chest. The sky had swirled above him, a bright brilliant blue while he tried to remember who, and where, he was.
With one glance at this woman’s dazzling ice blue eyes, his heart thunked in his chest and his head swirled, as if he’d taken a similar hit. That sensation of being flat out gobsmacked pummeled him just like that monster tackle from a three-hundred-fifty pound linebacker. He shook his head, trying to clear the sensation of having his bell rung.
She wore a mannish navy suit with matching pointy flats. Not the least bit sexy. And yet he wanted to pull her into his embrace and hold on tight. A waterfall of straight platinum hair framed a stunning face of classic bone structure, bright blue eyes and a wide, unsmiling mouth.
“Mr. Smith.” Not a question. Slightly haughty, frosty, ice princess.
He realized he’d been far too silent and his mother had been chattering away on the other end of the line.
“Well then, have a good lunch.” He managed to finish his call without babbling like an idiot. He blindly pressed the end button. He guessed this was the reporter. She certainly didn’t dress like a groupie.
That untouchable queen to peasant thing was really doing it for him. He’d never had this kind of physical reaction to a woman in his life. But he had to ignore it. Because her profession killed any possibility of engaging beyond this interview. Reporters were off-limits. For so, so many reasons.
So instead of asking her on a date, preferably one that started right here and ended upstairs in the Harvey Parker suite with both of them naked, he was going to ignore this insane attraction and do what he always did.
Flirt, distract, deflect, and get rid of her fast after he got his message across. He’d be out of here in thirty. He’d ignore his visceral reaction and get it done.
I loved writing D and Elise’s story. They were a fun couple to get to know. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do. <3
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