Savannah Foxx is an aspiring paranormal romance writer. She has just completed her first single-title novel TIMELESS and begun work on its sequel. For more on
, stop by her website www.savannahfoxx.com and check her out. Savannah
Hi Carol, thanks for having me. I have to tell you that recently my muse has been out for coffee and when I read the scenario for your guest bloggers I was immediately transported to your Tiki Hut and inspired to write. A big thank you for kicking my muse in the behind J
Laptop in hand and slathered with SPF fifty, I made my way to my home for the next few hours. My writer buddy was gracious enough to lend me her Tiki Hut so I could wrap up my latest novel. I cast my eyes over the dancing blue water spread out before me and licked my sun-dried lips as I took a seat. Thank heaven for Chapstick. I dug my feet into the hot, white sand and covered my toes with its warm blanket of crystals.
Shaded by the massive umbrella overhead, I was just about to rest my hands on the keys when a delicious cabana boy sauntered up to me offering a choice of beverages to quench the heat of midday here in Tiki-heaven. My hand hovered over the
, light with a hint of citrus, but I chose something sweet, decadent, creamy. The liquid cooled as the milky coconut passed my lips. My choice, a pina colada, complete with pink mini-umbrella. Corona
My laptop sneered at me. Okay, back to work. My story was set in
, in November. There I was in paradise and I had to write about winter in the windy city. What was I thinking? I blew a puff of air through my puckered lips and got to work. A small breeze brushed against my cheek and carried a wisp of hair that stuck to my Chapstick-colada lips. Damn Carol...couldn’t your Tiki Hut be in a hotel room...with no windows... Chicago
The slight wind beckoned again. Focus
, Focus. I closed my eyes and imagined the breeze was no longer gentle as it whipped my hair and the rain spat in my face. Yes! The warm sand up to my ankles became frigid sleet that nipped at my toes. Savannah
I slid into a groove. The cold November rain surrounded me as the
winds howled. Howl? But it wasn’t the winds in my head that howled. A small dog leapt in and out of the waves yowling at the white foam that raced towards the shore. Not far behind him strolled his dish of an owner. His bronzed skin glistened as tiny droplets of water trickled from his sandy hair onto his well-formed pecs. I bit my lip as my fingers typed. THIS is why I am a pantser. Cold. Rain. Done. I knew what my second love scene would be...Hel-lo shower. Chicago
How ‘bout you? Do you continue writing and make your word count, or do you invite the handsome hunk over for a drink? Decisions, decisions...