#WriteTip - Give Your Scene Room to Breathe by @Eve_Dangerfield, spotlighting her @LSB_lsbooks #Romance
/Anyone who has read Operation Owl knows that I have a soft spot for geeks (of the male and female variety). Having heard that Eve Dangerfield's heroine is a fellow IT girl (yes, tis my not-so-evil day job), I couldn't wait to learn more. Now that her book is officially on store shelves, I've invited her over to offer a writing tip. This one is short and sweet, giving me more time to dig into the excerpt.
Whenever I think a scene is stagnant I up the dialogue and make it funny rather than dramatic. Not taking the writing too seriously tends to give the scene some space to breathe, which ironically often makes it more insightful. - Eve Dangerfield
Locked Box
by Eve Dangerfield
Julia Bennett isn’t having a great day. Funding for her video game is running low, her IT job is sucking her dry and to cap it all off she’s locked in a police station with the very handsome, extremely married guy she’s been avoiding at all costs. Max Connor isn’t having a great year. He’s getting divorced, his best friend is squatting in his spare room and his inappropriate crush on the IT girl is getting dangerously out of hand. And that was before he locked the two of them in an evidence room for the weekend. Surrounded by three decade’s worth of drugs, guns and floppy disks, Max and Julia are forced to confront the heat that lies between them with dangerous, funny and occasionally toe-curlingly sexy results.
Excerpt
Without thinking he seized both her wrists, pulling them down to her sides. Julia drove her forehead into his and sparks exploded behind Max’s eyes. “Ow, fuck!”
Instinctively he forced Julia back, pinning her body to the floor and parting her legs with his thighs. She jerked her hips, trying to throw him off. He pressed down, trapping her under his weight. “Gotcha. Not so tough now are you?”
Julia’s smile was wicked. “No I’m not Max.”
Oh no. Oh fuck. He was on top of her, his hips were bearing down on hers, their eyes were level, their mouths were level. The curve of Julia’s upper lip was inches from his, her. He couldn’t kiss her could he? His heart would give out if he even tried. He waited on the edge of everything for a sign, some confirmation of what to do. His head was pounding, his cock was pounding, his hands still holding her wrists were shaking.
“Max...” Julia’s breath was coming out in light shallows pants. “I-I want you. I’ve wanted you for ages.”
She kissed him soft and slow. Bright spots popped behind Max’s eyes as pleasure twisted like amphetamines in his blood. This is it, he thought. This is fucking it though what that meant he couldn’t begin to explain.
Julia’s hands stroked through his hair and he pulled away, unsure of what was happening.
“Was that bad?” she asked.
“That was the furthest fucking thing from bad.”
He raised a hand to his lips, stroking his tingling mouth. They’d kissed. The girl he liked kissed him. The sensation was as fresh as it had been at fourteen. This is it. This is fucking it.
Before he knew what was happening they were kissing again that graceless, all-consuming way teenagers kissed, like you needed swallow the other person whole and fuck them through their clothes at the same time. Julia stroked his back and shoulders, reaching between them to caress every muscle she could find. She was greedier than he could have possibly imagined and the idea got him hot enough to melt steel. He did a little exploring of his own, sucking on her tongue as he cupped her breasts, kneading the sweet little mounds until she sighed into his mouth. They consumed each other, hips moving restlessly and Julia wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing her jeans against his aching dick. “More.”
Max kissed her neck. “More what baby?”
“Just more. I need more of you.”
He held back, needing to hear her say the words. “Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
About Eve Dangerfield
Eve Dangerfield has loved romance novels since she first started swiping her grandmother’s paperbacks at the age of fourteen. Now she writes her own unapologetically sexy tales about complex women and gorgeous-but-slightly-tortured men. Eve currently lives in Melbourne with her lovely sister and a rabbit named Billy. Locked Box is her second novel.
