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Guest blog: Lynne Silver wonders – Do opposites really attract and can it work long term?
Relationships are hard. Marriage can be even harder. I know as a romance writer this borders on blasphemy, but after being married for sixteen years, I have a little experience. It’s easy when things go well. It’s much much harder when that “in sickness and bad times” thing comes in to play.
In False Match, I make things really hard for my hero and heroine. It’s a romance novel, so it’s my job to make it hard for poor Chase and Samara. If I didn’t, the book would be so boring. “And then they went to the movies, he proposed and they lived happily ever after. The end.”
It’s not as easy in False Match. Here’s what Chase and Samara have going against them:
- He is a genetically enhanced soldier who is required to find his perfect DNA match. She may not be that person.
- He is 32 years old, she is 36.
- She is a single mom. He is a commitment phobic man child.
- She is a certified genius. He’s bright, but he’s no Einstein.
- She is rigid and likes order. Chase wouldn’t recognize order if it came and cleaned his apartment.
So what do you think? Think they can make it work? You’ll have to read to find out. Hint: It’s a romance novel!
What about it real life? Are you, or anyone you know, in a seemingly impossible relationship?
Genetically enhanced soldier Chase Stanton has two jobs in life. One, he must kick ass on all missions for the Program and, two, breed with his DNA breed mate, whoever and wherever she may be. Two problems. Chase learns he isn’t genetically enhanced after all and Doctor Samara Jones, the woman he craves beyond all reason, is likely an enemy of his team and not his true match. Too bad they can’t keep their hands off each other.
A Romantica® contemporary erotic romancefrom Ellora’s Cave
False Match: Coming March 6, 2013 from Ellora’s Cave
By day, Lynne Silver lives the suburban soccer mom life; volunteering with the PTA, doing laundry and working. By night she enters the sensuous world of alpha males and passionate heroines.
She calls the nation’s capital home and lives in an old fixer-upper with her husband and their two sons. When not writing romance, she reads it. Lots of it. Over and over and over again, preferably with a bag of M&Ms in hand. She is represented by literary agent, Jessica Alvarez of Bookends LLC
Where to Find Lynne:
- www.lynnesilver.com (be sure to sign up for the quarterly newsletter)
- Twitter: @LynneSilver
- Facebook: LynneSilverAuthor
By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.
An Excerpt From: FALSE MATCH
Copyright © LYNNE SILVER, 2013
All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
“It’s early. Are you really going to bed?”
She hesitated. She wasn’t the least bit tired and with Luca sleeping she couldn’t turn on the television or a light to read by.
“Come in here. Keep me company.” Chase patted the mattress. The connecting rooms were obviously for a family. Chase had the king bedroom for the parents, while she’d opted for the kids’ room with two full beds, one for her, one for Luca.
“Stop glaring at me, Jonesie. I’m not going to molest you. I’m bored and want some company.”
She took one tiny step toward his room and eyed the large mattress as if it were a flaming pit with snakes under the covers. Chase’s big body took up more than his fair share of the bed. He had no shirt on, and she couldn’t tell what he wore on the bottom, since his lower half was tucked under the starched white sheet.
He grinned. “I’m not naked.”
“I didn’t say you were.” She remained in the doorway between the rooms.
“Were you hoping I was?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She would pay big money to see him in the buff.
“Look, I have on boxers.” He flung the cover off his lap, revealing his long, bare muscular legs and boxers that were brief by any definition. The royal-blue underpants were nearly skintight and hugged the bulge at his crotch.
“Do you…are you?” He was getting an erection! As she stared.
He folded his arms behind his head and crossed his legs at his ankles. “With the way you’re staring at me, hell yeah, I’m gonna sprout wood.”
“You are vulgar.” And she couldn’t tear her gaze away. Her lower belly flip-flopped and, oh my, she was actually getting wet. As wet as when she came from self-pleasuring, and all it had taken was one good look at Chase’s package. “I’m going to shower. Good night.”
“Don’t be a bore, Jonesie. I’ll cover it up and stay under the covers. You can sit on top of the sheet.”
His words did nothing to quell the heated lust at the images of her being on top entailed. She swallowed and paused, still in the doorway. She really didn’t want to shower at this moment. Every second with Chase was more exciting than her last thirty years had been combined, other than the birth of her son. Wasn’t that a sad commentary?
“Fine, but no tricks and no sex.”
Chase pulled the covers back over him practically to his chin. “Have it your way, but it would be so terrible?”
“Would what be so terrible?”
He waggled a finger between them as she carefully sat on the edge of the mattress. “You, me, sex?”
“You know it would. Maybe the sex would be fine, but anything else would be terrible. We’re oil and water, Chase.”
“Maybe, but I get you hot and bothered. You’re not the slightest bit interested in seeing what happens when oil and water mix?”
“Not in the slightest.” She kept her gaze straight ahead on the television screen, but if there were a test later on what was on, she’d fail.
“Liar.” His word held no heat except for a sexual one.
“I’m not lying.”
“I think I have one more thing to add to the list of things that get Doctor Samara Jones hot.”
“What are you talking about? You have nothing on me.”
He held up a finger. “One. Romance novels get you going. Don’t think I didn’t notice the bookmark that was at the halfway point. I only gave you the book, what, forty-eight hours ago, and you’ve been working for a lot of those hours. Which means you were up late reading last night.”
She pushed his finger away. “It proves nothing other than the lack of interesting things to do on campus and the fact that all of my personal belongings were taken from me.”
He ignored her protest and raised another finger. “And two, staring at men’s junk gets you really revved up.”
Her face felt as if it were on fire.
“Tell me, Jonesie. Does any cock get you hot, or is it just mine?”
She needed water. Now. She practically threw her legs off the bed in an attempt to flee with her dignity intact, but Chase moved with quiet speed and grabbed her before she could step away more than a foot from the bed. His arms anchored her in place and pulled her backward, her back against his chest. And her rear against… Oh. My. It felt even larger than it looked.
“Number three added to the list,” he whispered in her ear. “A hard cock rubbing against your sweet ass.”
A noise escaped her. It might have been a whimper, but she was struggling to find balance and sanity in the tornado of sensation that assaulted her. Between Chase’s dirty words and his hard body against her, she didn’t know which way was up anymore.
“Let me go,” she whispered.
“Absolutely. If I thought you wanted me to, but you don’t, do you?” He pressed a tiny kiss to her earlobe then bit gently. “Don’t talk, just nod or shake your head. Got it?”
“Do you want me to let you go?”
She nodded. And then shook her head.
“Which is it, Samara? In or out?”
In and out? Oh wait, that wasn’t the question.
Chase’s arms loosened around her enough so she could turn to face him. As soon as she was around, he unwound his arms and scooted back on the bed. He wasn’t smiling, instead he watched her intently. “You with me, babe?”
Her head bobbed as if an invisible string was pulling it up and down. She couldn’t figure out how she was alone in a dark room with the sexiest man she’d ever met and he seemed to want her also. On paper this was a disaster waiting to happen. She was not his type and he was definitely not hers, but short of her son waking up in the adjacent room or a bomb going off in the hotel, she wasn’t moving.
“Do you want to have sex, Samara?” Chase asked, looking as serious as she’d ever seen him. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. It could just be sex to make each other feel good.”
Her lips parted to say yes, but then she closed them. Who was he kidding? It would mean something. They were working in close proximity, her son adored him and she was too off balance to keep her emotional distance.
“What do you want, Jonesie?”
The mocking nickname helped. “I want to see you. Naked.”
I am a filthy-mouthed 29-year-old full time mommy/wife/student, bookaholic, Twitter addict, & self-described tomboy-princess. I am never without at least one book (I usually have two... sometimes more), and I will be happy to tell you ALL about whichever book(s) I happen to be reading at the moment. :)