“White is virginal innocence, which brings out all my wickedness and debauchery. To a man like me, it’s like waving the white flag of surrender. I see you pure and innocent in white and I can think of nothing else but all the ways I might be able to get that pretty white a bit dirty.” ~ Conn

Maybe it’s just me, but if an author mentions a specific detail about a character in the story, I (as a reader) want it to mean something.  I don’t want to know about their favorite color, what books they read, where they work, etc. if it has no impact on WHO this character is.  So maybe it’s a foible of mine to make color so important to a story.

I’ve always assigned meaning to color.  I carefully select a color theme for each story BEFORE I begin writing.  I have to have a matching notebook for the story.  The pattern or color end up signaling to my brain which story I’m working on. 

For example, there’s a reason the blog is mostly black:  it’s in honor of Johnny Cash’s Man In Black.  But it also stands for the darkness I typically include, whether shadows, old hurts, or dark emotions.  I’ve always been intrigued with the Dark Side. 

In Dear Sir, I’m Yours, colors take on some subtle meanings.  Miss Belle could never have a parasol in any color other than pink.  It would violate her character.  Conn would never have a Mustang in any other color than black, and as you can see from the quote above, he loves to see Rae in white.

When I filled out the questionaire for the cover, I emphasized the importance of white and black.  I never mentioned that Rae’s favorite color is cherry red.  We went through a couple of different design ideas, and then Scott sent this one and I almost fell out of my chair.  All that glorious red.  I hadn’t asked for it, but it couldn’t have been any better for the story.

After all, this story is all about Rae.  Her preferences, her fears, her desires.  Conn would want her to have a red cover.

When I write, every story ends up with a theme song, sometimes several.  They help me set the story in my mind, and they definitely make it easier for me to switch mental gears from one story to another, especially when one is “red hot contemporary romance” and the other is “dark fantasy.”  Some characters even end up with their own theme songs, or a particular song will help me write through the dark moment or climax of a story.

For Dear Sir, I’m Yours I had several theme songs on my playlist.

The first and main song is Austin by Blake Shelton.  If you’re not familiar with the song, it’s about a woman who left about a year ago (without leaving her number), but decides to call her old boyfriend.  She listens to this incredibly long voice message, and at the very end, he says “P.S. if this is Austin, I still love you.”  She gives it a few days and calls him again, just to see if it was an old message he forgot about — because surely he couldn’t still love her, couldn’t still be waiting for her after all this time.  She’d left him, with no number, certainly no promises that she’d ever come back.  Sure enough, this is a new message, and at the very end, he says the same thing.  I still love you.

That really really got to me.  If Rae had ever picked up the phone and called Conn, whether a month or a year or several years later, he would have jumped in that Mustang and driven cross country to reach her.  He still loved her that much.  In Rae’s case, she’s been writing him constantly, all these years, even while married to another man.  She loves him, but she can’t pick up the phone.  Surely she couldn’t have loved him that much, just after one semester of poetry.  Surely she hadn’t needed him that much.  It had to be all in her head.  But why can’t she stop writing him?  Why does she still remember his office phone number; why does she still dream about calling him?  (Hint: read the book to find out ha!)

Hello Darlin’ by Conway Twitty started on my playlist but then I quit needing to listen to it once Conn found his voice.

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy by Big & Rich always gets my blood pumping to write a Connagher.  (Dies, I almost typed “ride” a Connagher.  Talk about a Freudian slip.)

Hell Yeah by Montgomery Gentry, another fun blood pumping country song.  Yeah, I’m showing my country “hick” roots, aren’t I?  Actually, this is the only book I’ve written to country music.  It just fits the down-home atmosphere of Beulah Land and Conn’s Texan upbringing.

Finally, this might seem like an odd song choice, but Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood ended up on my playlist late in the game.  I couldn’t figure out why.  Conn certainly would never cheat on Rae or vice versa now that they were trying to “make things right”, but my gut insisted this song needed to be there.  By the end (next to last chapter, I believe) you’ll see why my Muse insisted this song had to be on this playlist.  Laughs.  I was totally surprised by that one.

Now you’ve probably got song lyrics stuck in your head!  Next up, I’ll talk about colors in Dear Sir.

Today’s the big day!  Dear Sir, I’m Yours is available at Samhain Publishing here!

So here’s a little “Story Behind the Story” post.

It all started with a photograph of Clive Owen.  My friend and accountability partner, Jenna, sent me a picture.  She was using it as inspiration for a short story she was working on, and she thought I might like it too.  Her story was for a spanking-themed anthology and she said something like, “My heroine hasn’t ever been into spanking, but she looks at him and says, if he asked, why not.”

I took one look at him and recognized him.  Clive Owen didn’t look back at me.  It was Conn.

I’d started a draft back in 2004 with an English professor named Dr. Connagher, but I’d never finished it and had no plans to do so, until I saw that picture.  My entire perception of Conn changed forever.  Because my friend had dropped that little comment about spanking, it was attached to him and his picture, and I couldn’t shake it.  What kind of professor would he be, then?  What kind of heroine did he need?

The rest is history.

So when I personally think of Conn, this is who I see.