ROMANCE-ology 101: Writing Romantic Tension for the Inspirational and Sweet Markets by Lessman Julie

Author:Lessman, Julie [Lessman, Julie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-10-22T16:00:00+00:00

In romance, if there’s attraction between two characters, “unwillingness” on the part of one of the parties only stirs the romantic pot, so don’t be afraid to turn up the heat.

Chapter 11

Immediate Hero/Heroine Confrontation

Ah , confrontation—undesirable in a classroom, yes, but in a novel? Oh, honey, it spikes tension better than a cast-iron ruler slapping a wooden desk—CRR-AAA-CKKK!

You might say immediate confrontation is the perfect volley in a fast-paced game of the wills, in which disdain, sarcasm, withering looks, or insults set the hero and heroine up in a head-butting match that’s sure to end in a game of love.

Here’s an example from A Passion Most Pure where the sweet and gentle heroine, Faith O’Connor, first meets her new boss, Mitch Dennehy, with whom she eventually falls in love. Mitch is a handsome but cantankerous newspaper editor who does not want her on his staff, and Faith O’Connor is a redhead with an Irish temper she usually keeps under wraps. After Mitch is 45 minutes late for a meeting, his boss Michael (in whose POV we are in) introduces the two, resulting in Mitch badgering Faith with snide questions. She responds with polite but cool answers . . . until she ends the confrontation with a well-placed zinger.

Michael turned to Faith. “Faith, this . . . ,” he said with a touch of drama, “is your manager, Mitch Dennehy.”

Faith turned in her seat to acknowledge Mitch, whose frosty gaze shifted from her face, down to her new, leather shoes and back up again. His blue eyes assessed her so completely, her cheeks bruised crimson as she stiffened in the chair, chin thrust high. “Hello, Mr. Dennehy,” she said, her tone polite but cool.

Mitch didn’t say a word, only eyed her with practiced superiority, and the blush on her cheeks spread like blight in the rainy season. Michael watched in fascination as a smile fluttered on his department editor’s lips.

Mitch’s penetrating blue eyes drifted from the tiny hands pinched white in Faith’s lap, to the soft tendril of hair that curved the nape of her neck. “Michael tells me you were a copywriter at The Boston Herald , is that right?”

Faith hesitated, then sucked in a shaky breath. “Yes, I mean I did write some copy . . .”

Mitch nodded. His cocky smile worked its way into a grin. “Some copy? Have you done any feature writing before?” He was waiting. They were all waiting.

The hot stain on her cheeks was a permanent condition now. “No, I haven’t done much feature writing, exactly . . .”

“Any reviews, editorials, hard news?”

She tensed as if straddling a mule about to buck. “No, I’m afraid I don’t have much experience doing any of that . . .”

“Well, then, Miss O’Connor,” he mused, his eyes laughing at her, “tell me. Is there anything you can do?”

The air stilled to a deathly hush. Slowly, she lifted her chin to stare at him with as much defiance as she could politely display. “Yes sir . . . ,” she said, producing a smile that was anything but.

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