All the Single Ladies...Or Not So Much by Nana Malone
First, I’d like to thank Cindy for hosting me on the blog today and giving me the opportunity to meet your fabulous readers.
As Beyonce said “All the single ladies, All the single ladies, All the single ladies…” Somehow the summer anthem wouldn’t have been nearly the same if she’d swapped married ladies for single ladies. Writing the carefree single gal is a whole different ballgame than writing about a wife or mother.
I remember my single days. Ahh, the days of not answering to anyone but myself. I remember when the only responsibility I had was worrying about paying rent, grabbing the latest hot duds from H&M, and where happy hour was going to be that night. I lived for Sex and the City and I was fabulous. Or at least I thought I was. How I miss those days. Or do I? Writing the single heroine is a raucous fast passed adventure. Her life is about exploration and finding love. Every scene is an opportunity to show her growing into the woman she’s supposed to become. But those single days were sometimes lonely and hard and often filled with heartbreak. My mother called them growing pains.
Writing a mother is a whole different world. In Game, Set, Match, Izzy is your classic caretaker. As is the way of mothers, she thinks of everyone before she thinks of herself. She’d love to give herself over to a torrid affair with Jason and just have a good time. But she knows the consequences. She has more than just herself to think about. She knows Jason can not only break her heart but her son’s as well.
Do I have a preference for the kind of heroine I like to write? No. I love them all. As a new mother. I now understand what it means to have your whole life revolve around someone else entirely. It’s a whole new perspective. Because I’m at this point in my life, it’s great to be able to explore it with the feelings that are so fresh.
But boy do I love my single heroine. It reminds me a little bit of who I used to be. Though I doubt I was ever quite so fabulous.
Off the court, tennis star Jason Cartwright’s playboy image is taking a public beating. On the court, he’s down forty-love. A knee injury is shutting down his game, and the paparazzi are splashing his love life on every magazine. A comeback is in order, but the makeover he needs to save his faltering career is in the hands of the woman he loved and left fifteen years ago.
While single-mom, Izzy Connors, sees people for who they really are through the lens of and good looks haven’t dimmed since he broke her heart, all she sees is his wasted talent and playboy lifestyle.
Can Izzy put the past behind her and help Jason get his game, and his image, back on track? Or will the click of her camera shatter his world as well as his heart?
Dark glasses masked his eyes, but Izzy knew behind them, she’d find intense heat able to strip her to the soul. His tousled blond hair just as she remembered it, a little unkempt, as if he hadn’t bothered with it. He was every bit the Hollywood playboy portrayed in the press. And that devil-may-care sexiness was going to be the death of her.
Before she could say anything else, his strong arms and a warm musky scent enveloped her. Involuntarily, her body stilled like an ice sculpture as her breasts came into contact with the hard planes of his chest. Unable to process the situation, she heard a faint clatter as his sunglasses fell to the floor. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to think of the last time she’d seen him, the last time he’d abandoned her for Sabrina.
“Damn, Izzy, you look amazing.” He set her down, but kept hold of one of her hands. Whiskey eyes poured warm amber over every inch of her body. “How’ve you been?”
The source of her greatest humiliation wanted to know how she’d been, as if they were old buddies. She reminded herself they, for all intents and purposes, were old buddies, until she’d made the mistake of pegging him as her first lover.
Behind Jason, his companion, with his rugged dark good looks and infectious smile, saved her from having to speak. Not that she could have. “Did I miss something, Jase? You two know each other?”
Jason’s smile flashed, making her want to do all manner of inappropriate things. Smash his head in with a frying pan? Strip him bare and see if he still looked as good as he promised? Launch a full TET offensive on him with her lips?
Not necessarily in that order.
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