Tag: cleanromance (Page 2 of 3)

Romance–But Trying Something New

June 10, 2024 / Gigi Lynn

A Palette Cleanser, or a New Addition to Gigi Lynn Writes?

I love writing historical romance!

I love the characters. I love the research. I love that “love conquers all” theme.

I think I will always write historical romance.

And Book 2 of the Rebel Hearts Series is sceduled for the first week in July. The writing on Book 3 of the Rebel Hearts Series is going well.

But I had an idea a week ago that planted itself in my mind and won’t let go, so in my spare time, I’ve been working on it.

It’s still a sweet, closed-door romance. It just happens to be set in a fantasy world. It’s set on an island nation of shape changers–Sirens, with power in their voices.

Would you like a sneak peek of my first draft of Chapter 1?

Here it is. I hope you enjoy it.

Working title: Charmed

Thick, dark clouds gathered on the horizon as we prepared for the coming battle. This time the enemy were Jemarri, skilled in combat and archery. They claimed to be descended from the Gods millennia ago. It might have been true.

This Jamar force sailed toward us in five triremes, each big enough to seat 170 oarsmen in three rows. Our scouting party had spied them out and found that each ship was armed with four ballistae modified for harpoons, two on the port, two on the starboard side. I gripped my spear in my right hand and kept my primary knife in my left and watched their large square sails moved inexorably closer.

Zephyrois approached me and took my chin in his big hand. “Raidne, I need you to stay in the shoals. Take the watch.”

I shook my head. “No Zeph. I may be the youngest daughter of the house of Nereidos, but the queen’s blood runs through my veins. I can help. I can fight.”

“Of course you can. I trained you myself, didn’t I? But I’m depending on you. You’ll be the last defense. You’re the protector of the inner villages and the stormquartz fields. And Raidne,” he tugged the braid that hung over my shoulder, “you are to protect yourself. You are our heart.” Zeph leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead.

“Alkaios,” he said to our brother, “watch over her.”

Kai didn’t argue.

I glared at Zeph’s back. “Of course, you can fight, Raidne.” I muttered as he strode to the front of our gathered forces. “But I’ll leave a guard for you, so you won’t hurt your helpless self.” I turned to Kai. “Does he realize how his last words undermine everything he said before?”

“If it’s any comfort to you, he doesn’t want me at the battlefront either.”

“Zeph is only three years older than I. Only two years older than you. We have trained and—”

I stopped talking as the queen, our mother walked up to the highpoint of the Isona Promontory. Wrapped in a white robe, trimmed in gold threads and fastened at her shoulder with a large gold clip worked in the insignia of our house, she looked over her assembled soldiers. Her long blonde hair lifted and fluttered in the freshening breeze.

As the sun sank below the horizon, she raised her arms to the sky. Her whole being seemed to spark in the dying light.

Only then did she release her powerful, hypnotic voice, “Once again we are called to defend our homeland and our way of life. Again, an enemy from beyond the sea thinks to roam our seas unsanctioned, to steal our precious resources, our stormquartz, to limit our power, or destroy us if they can.

“They think they know the bounds of our strength, so they have stopped their ears.” Her mocking laughter rang through the surrounding bluffs and eddied through the assembled army. “But this night we will show them that the Syrenii will not bow to any being, above or below the seas.”

Her chaunt began as a low, mournful melody, quickly building in volume and power, increasing in tempo until she was belting a militant but lyrical battle cry. At the crescendo, she unclipped the badge at her shoulder. The white ethereal robe fluttered to the ground to reveal gold scales already spreading down from her hips to encircle and fuse her legs. Before her transformation was complete, she thrust herself from the precipice, her tail fin forming while she descended to the deep blue sea below.

In ranks, we followed our queen, leaving behind a pile of silk and linen robes, wraps, and sarongs to litter the mountain.

At last, Kai and I dove into the sea, but instead of following the advancing army, we swam around the beachhead to the pools protected by the ring of jutting rocks that poked out of the tide like sharpened teeth and nearly surroundedSyreniia, our island home.

Kai took his thumb and smoothed the line between my brows. “This enemy knows our greatest power. They have armed themselves against the siren’s song. The women will be no more powerful than the men in this battle.”

“And yet, I am the only daughter of the queen that isn’t fighting.”

“I understand. Other than Xanthos, who is still with his wet-nurse, I am the only son who is not fighting.”

“Why doesn’t it bother you more?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but a thud and creak of tearing wood broke the night air. Our force had breached the first ship.

I submerged and swam from behind the rock formations so I could see. The waves on the surface frothed with the coming storm, below the water swirled back and forth. Sediment from the sea floor stirred in the swelling water.

Still, I saw the two huge harpoons, those made to hunt whales, break the surface, slanting down through the water. One pierced the shoulder of the leading soldier. The attached rope tautened, and she was pulled toward the surface.

Without thought I started swimming toward her. Kai followed.

With the knife in her left hand, the syrenii sawed at the rope. Moments before she reached the surface, the last strand broke. She paused only a moment before she dove down with the harpoon still jutting from her shoulder. She didn’t stop. She stabbed her steel- tipped spear into the hull next to the hole she had already made. She twisted the spear and pulled at the breach, even as the water darkened with her blood. The hole widened.

Once again, the harpoons speared through the water. Her long dark hair obscured her face, but I recognized my eldest sister, Leucosia. She would be killed if those thick, barbed spears kept coming.

I swam faster than I ever had before into the deeper water, heading toward the ship’s bow, with Kai close on my tail. Clouds of silt obscured my sight of the distant syrenii. Every breath felt as if it came through a filter of sand. When I neared the surface, I slowed and raised only the top of my head above water. I searched the deck of the ship. It took only moments to find the two archers.

Dropping my head below the water, I pushed my words into Kai’s mind. He nodded and swam behind and below me. When we neared the bow of the boat, I took a kneeling position very near the water line, facing the enemy. When I lifted my hand, Kai charged up toward me with powerful strokes, bending and snapping his fin like a whip and building up speed.

With a surge, he half-pushed, half-threw me up into the air. At the apex of my flight, I pulled my right arm back and hurled my spear at the closest harpooner.

Before the sailors could react, I dived back into the sea.

Kai handed me his spear, and sunk below me, so that he could throw me again. Again, my spear flew true, and the second harpooner fell to my bolt.

Kai and I rounded the starboard side of the ship and raced to Cosia. Though her shoulder still bled into the water around her, she resisted until Kai pried the spear from her hands. “I will finish this,” he pushed the thought. “Go with Raidne.”

She considered for another few moments before she inclined her head and joined me. We moved at an angle to avoid the notice of the Jemarri sailors. Cosia swam awkwardly with the harpoon still buried in her shoulder. I slowed to keep pace with her.

By the time we were half a league from the shallow pool in the lea of the rock where Zeph had told us to wait, she was so weakened that I had to carry her. Breathless, I finally settled her in a tide pool deep enough to cover her body and propped her head above the water.

Cosia was pale, but she tried a smile. “Did you just pierce their throwing arms? I know you don’t like to kill.”

I examined the wound. “It was necessary this time. They would have kept shooting until they captured you.”

“Thank you.”

I met her eyes. “The barbs will shred your shoulder if I pull the harpoon out. Do you want to wait for Geia?

“No. You do it. I can’t wait.”

I nodded and put my back against the rock. Cosia submerged herself fully in the water and nodded to me. I gripped the end of the staff closest to the long whale bone head of the harpoon. I drew in one deep breath, and on the exhale, I pulled with all my might. Cosia’s scream spread in ripples through the water, and she passed out.

“No!” I cried. Throwing the harpoon toward the shore, I rolled forward to pull her into my arms. I kept her damaged shoulder in the healing salt water and put my ear to her heart. When I heard the deep thrum, rapid but steady, tears filled my eyes, slid across the bridge of my nose, and dripped onto her chest.

Sitting hip deep in the water and holdingCosia, I watched the rest of the battle. I could only see the men on the ships, fearlessly fighting a fast moving, at times nearly invisible foe. It took two more hours before the last ship sunk beneath the waves.

“It is finished. Everyone will return soon.” Even as I said the words, I knew it was impossible that all would return, but surely all my sisters and brothers.

Cosia was conscious though still pale. She kept her right shoulder in the water and started stretching it gently, working to prevent the loss of her range of motion and strength. “It should never have happened. I must make mother see that her determination to hold onto the old ways won’t work anymore. We must change if we want to survive.”

Humor in Romance

June 3, 2024 / Gigi Lynn

We fall in love, and everything is wonderful. But let’s be honest, the world intrudes. Sometimes things get hard. But we still have that hope that love can endure?

smiling man and woman wearing jackets — Photo by Tristan Le on Pexels.com

Or as Shakespeare wrote:

. . . Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O no, it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken.

That’s the dream in real life. Even if we don’t get that dream, or get to keep that dream, that’s the ideal, the wish, the hope. And that’s what we want in our romance books, isn’t it? A love we can believe will endure.

In a chest of tools that might build that kind of lasting love, the ability to laugh has to be included. Humor allows us to live with the little idiosyncrasies in our partner. It allows us to weather those tempests of life. It builds common experiences and a common language.

On top of all that, it is healthy to laugh. I won’t list the research, but we must laugh more.

Believing this, I try to include some humorous situations or dialogue in each of my novels and novellas. While I’m writing those parts, I am chuckling, or smirking, or laughing out loud. But humor is such a subjective thing. Every time I write something I think is funny, I ask myself: But will that reader laugh?

So, I’d love to hear what you think is funny. When was the last time you just guffawed, in real life or in response to a book, movie, or show? What situations in your life make you roll your eyes and chuckle? What ironies make you shake your head with a helpless titter? What did someone say that surprised a laugh out of you?

I’d love you to share. You never know, you may find a similar situation, conversation, or experience in one of my romance novels in the future.

My Current (Work In Progress) Regency Romance Novel

January 11, 2024 / Gigi Lynn

Dear Lord Wycliff–an epistolary romance novel

Most regency romances are set during the London season, which everyone assumes is in the spring.

It is true that by the 1820s that became the norm—A King’s or Queen’s speech in late January or early February convened the parliamentary session. This in turn brought all the noble families to London, and they usually stayed until early August.

But in the 1790s, when the Rebel Hearts Series is set, the King’s speech took place in very late in the fall, (in December in 1792), and the session drew to a close in late May or early June, (occasionally July).

In Dear Lord Wycliff, Book Two of the Rebel Hearts Series, Lady Corinna Capener comes at the beginning of November to prepare for the London season, a few weeks before the King’s speech in December.

I assure you, the timing is correct.

In Book One of Rebel Hearts, An Honorable Man, I barely allude to the reign of terror and the French Revolution. It figures more centrally in Book Two since our main male character, Lord Wycliff, is serving in the diplomatic service in Paris, at least until diplomatic relations are cut off and he must leave.

I am challenged more than I anticipated (but in the best possible way) in writing this epistolary novel. But I love this story of Corinna and Daniel. And of Georgiana and Olivier.

_{This is only an inspiration image I made in AI, not the final cover}

Here is a little sneak peek. The first letter. (One thing you must know to begin this story is that is was very improper for a lady to write to a single, unrelated gentleman during regency times):

November 1, 1792 32 Portman Square London

Dear Georgie,

The days of adventure are over. Romance is dead. We were not waylaid by a highwayman on our way to London.

Instead, my brother arranged everything so that we traveled by easy stages and stopped each night at inns along the way. I wish I could have traveled to town as Rupert did, on the back of a horse. Instead, Jaminna and I rode in the carriage and took turns trying to entertain little Henry. Six-year-old boys should never be closed up in a carriage for four days on end. Neither should twenty-year-old ladies.

You know I cannot read while travelling in a carriage without becoming quite ill, so for four days I watched out the window and tried to think of games and stories engaging enough to while away the time. Lacking imagination, I borrowed some of yours.

But Georgie, there is one particularly lonely, atmospheric stretch of road between Highgate and Islington that sparked my imagination.

Picture this. Millions of stars shimmer above us. A low mist eddies over the road. I, the stupendously beautiful and spoiled Lady Corinna Anne Capener, wealthy beyond words, (it is my story after all), am making my way to take London by storm.

But what is this? Just as the full moon rises over the trees on the eastern horizon, a daring thief rides out of the woods, shoots into the air, and bellows, “stand and deliver.”

The carriage pulls to a shuddering stop. The horses buck and blow, mist rising from their backs. The carriage door opens, and a tall, dark man looms over us. His face is lean and chiseled—No wait, the lower portion of his face is hidden by a mask, and his eyes gleam from beneath the shadow of his hat.

I lift my chin and climb down into the terrifying night, bravely shielding my fellow travelers. Just like in the accounts of Claude Duval, that famous 17^th century knight of the road, my gentleman highwayman bows over my hand and agrees to accept less plunder if I dance with him on the moonlit roadside.

I felt quite proud of this gripping beginning to my story. Both Henry and Minna were enthralled. Then Rupert rode up beside us to ask after our comfort. He reminded me of more prosaic probabilities, and I laughed. Even if we were stopped by a thief who was dressed in the latest fashion and acted in the most gentlemanly manner, you know my brother would not like to be relieved of fifty guineas and tied to a tree.

And with my luck our highwayman wouldn’t be a nobleman in disguise, forced by his evil, usurping uncle to make his living on the high toby, but only a garden variety crook, determined to take my pearl ring and necklace and the few pence I had in my reticule.

Worse, it is much more likely I would stare mutely, like a dullard, rather than banter and jest with my creation. I hate to disappoint you, but I am not made for adventure, except as it happens in books.

Despite the uncomfortable monotony (and lack of romantic highwaymen), we arrived in London yesterday and settled into Capener Court. Minna says she is eager to take me shopping to update my wardrobe for the coming season. Can you believe it? She is the most generous soul and exceedingly kind to me when any other lady would resent having to chaperon her husband’s younger sister for a second year.

Really, I don’t know how Rupert convinced her to marry him. Not that he isn’t a good brother, but you know how stuffy and conventional he can be. And we won’t even mention how miserly, not that Minna regards that for one moment. She seems to find it an amusing challenge.

I thank you for the note you slipped into my reticule. It was a delightful interlude on the long journey, although I am not concerned that you will languish as you predict. Before the month is out you will find something to entertain you, even in Folkestone. Exciting things always happen around you. To illustrate, I remind you of the infamous ‘mystery of the purloined handkerchief,’ and the questions surrounding ‘who put the toad in the Vicar’s soup bowl?’

I so wish you could have come with me to town this season as we planned. It is inconvenient in the extreme that your uncle chose this precise time to ride into a fence at Chester Racecourse and die. Even three months of mourning seems too long for a man you never knew.

I just read the last and realize how heartless I sound, but I am feeling selfish. If you were here, the season would be bearable. Instead, I am doomed to endure another string of parties and balls where I must pretend interest in men who have no interest in me beyond my portion, and whose conversation is limited to the weather, their horses and carriages, and the hunt. They would never discuss any interesting topics, with a ‘delicate lady.’

On that topic, I ask you, why is a woman who is as tall as many of the men she stands up with considered delicate?

That question is impossible to answer, so I will admit to the more selfish reason I wish you were here. Dearest Georgie, I don’t know how I am to continue my correspondence with Lord Wycliff if you are not here to smuggle my letters out to the post.

I have thought to beg one of the servants to help me, but they are loyal to Rupert and Minna. No sooner than I reveal my need to one of the maids, I fear she will expose me. I don’t like to think of what my brother will do if he ever discovers that I’ve been exchanging letters with an unrelated, unmarried gentleman, even if it is under the guise of his name.

I must stop, I know. I only await Lord Wycliff’s response to the abstract of my article on Maria Theresa, and then I will stop writing to him. I have already tempted fate far longer than is safe.

Pray for me. Or, upon second thought, don’t pray for me. The last time you prayed to be released from attending Lady Marianne’s birthday celebration, we had pouring rain for weeks.

My dearest friend, Minna is at my door. We are to go to Bond Street this morning to replace my torn pelisse. I hope my letter finds you well, and that you’ll write soon and report all the news. I know you well enough to believe you will have at least one exciting tale.

Ever your affectionate friend,

Corinna

***Of course, when Corinna says she is not made for adventure, you just know that she will not be able to avoid it!

Would you like to read the next letter, this one from Georgie? Sometimes I feel she is going to ‘steal the show’ she is so engaging.

Love Is the Key

December 24, 2023 / Gigi Lynn

I’ve made this my motto. Actually, the full quote by Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. is “Love is the master key that opens the gates of happiness, of hatred, of jealousy, and, most easily of all, the gate of fear.

I believe this. I just like to focus on happiness or the journey to happiness in love. I don’t mind taking my characters through the other difficulties on the way to love, but I believe that love ultimately brings happiness–and peace, tolerance, patience, joy, meaning. In all aspects of our lives, on a small scale with those around us and on a larger scale as we interact with the world, we are happier and better if we try to see people through the lens of love.

So, I write romance. Even if I wrote another genre, there would be romance, or at least a strong relationship aspect at the center. I mean, what’s the purpose of a story if there is no love?

And on this Christmas Eve, more than ever before, I remember that Love Is the Key to everything good.

Merry Christmas!

Regency Romance Letters

December 19, 2023 / Gigi Lynn

How I came to be writing an epistolary novel

One of my college professors once said she wanted to write romances because she thought it would be easy. She described her imagined process like this: write a list of common scenes on 3 x 5 cards, shuffle them, and write the scenes in that order.

_{Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash}

I don’t believe she was a lover of the romance genre. If I were taking her class now, I would argue her assumption of ease and her supposed “systematic” approach. My experience has been so very different and much more difficult than she imagined. (And I think more rewarding than what she described).

Some romance authors probably do write according to a formula. They have a structure, perhaps even a template that works for them. They may plan according to trope before they create character. (Example: I’ll write an enemies to lovers romance. So, who are my main characters? Why do they hate each other? What has to happen to bring them together? Answer those questions and create a story). They may even have a few situations that regularly happen in their books.

There are moments when such a system sounds a little tempting. It might make this writing process easier, but I cannot do it for a few important reasons. (Please understand. These reasons are only important to me, to my process, to my satisfaction and joy in writing. This is not a comment on how other writers plan and write).

This is what I’ve learned (and continue to learn) about my writing.

First, characters come first for me. I can’t start with plot. I don’t know what is going to happen until I know my character, and sometimes not even then. I am often surprised as I write. My characters take on a life of their own and almost always change the plot. This is not comfortable or easy, but it keeps me on my toes. And I love the ride!

Second, I can’t write “to trope.” It’s only after I’m a good way through the story that I might recognize a familiar theme or device. I’m editing my novel Under a Honeyed Moon. It has a little bit of a Cinderella beginning and is fundamentally a forced marriage story. (You know, the couple that is found in a socially compromising situation and must marry). I didn’t start out with these tropes. They developed after Evie looked out her window and started talking to her friend about his plans to run away with another girl.

_{Temporary Cover created in AI and Bookbrush}

Third, even the structure of my novels are guided by the characters. Liza demanded to tell her own story, so first person, single point of view. Amelia and Sidonie followed suit. (Helen and Maris did too). But we had to see both Susan and Magnus in alternating points of view, and in third person. Patience required third person and to be the only point of view. Joie has such a strong voice–first person, present tense, flash fiction (less than 1000 words).

I was sure Minna’s story would be told simply in her POV in third person, except then Rupert wanted a little bit of time at the beginning of each chapter.

Now, I’m writing Corinna’s romance. She’s half in love with Lord Wycliff before the story even begins. But their whole relationship is based on a deception and an innocently meant impropriety. What will she do? I’m still finding out, along with her best friend because suddenly, I’m writing an epistolary novel.

No formula. No 3 x 5 cards. Not easy, but I love it! I love discovering and sharing these people and their love stories with you.

New Book Release Day

December 12, 2023 / Gigi Lynn

It’s live! A new Regency Romance Novel just for you.

I played with a little bit of a reverse Pygmalion story here. Lady Cecily must “refine” Mr. Hatton. If you like My Fair Lady, you’ll love this novel.

Mr. Hatton may not be considered a gentleman, but he has an honorable heart. I think he’s my favorite Main Male Character so far. (But I admit, I do fall in love with each as I’m writing).

Buy Here

This is the first novel in the brand new Rebel Hearts series. Even though I finished writing this love story last spring, I waited to bring it to you until I had written a prequel for the new series and a prequel for the Illusions series as well.

Then I spent some time writing bonus stories for each of my novels so far. Lots and lots of romance because who can have too much romance?

Get this one for FREE

Free Here

Now, I am about 2/3 of the way through writing Rebel Hearts, Book Two! So far, it’s titled Dear Lord Wycliff. It looks like I may be able to release that one in February or March.

Happy reading, and happy holidays.

Halloween Historical Romances?

October 14, 2023 / Gigi Lynn

Have you read a scary romance? (I’m not talking dark romance, because I wouldn’t know where to start to do that. I write clean/sweet/closed door historical romances, after all). In the spirit of the season, can we include gothic romances as scary romance? I think we must.

Last year in October, I accepted a challenge and wrote a short romance story with moody, misty, otherworldly elements. I had the best time writing it. It’s titled The Gypsy Witch. It is available in the Free Romance Reads section of this site.

If you missed it last year, I hope you enjoy it now.

I’m late to the game, but I wanted to try again to capture the shivers and atmosphere of the season. I’ve been thinking for weeks and have met a block–until today when I was watching the solar eclipse.

Thoughts of watching the sky, and all those who have done so through the ages, led to thoughts of the Equinoxes and Solstices, and in this autumn season led to thoughts of Samhain (pronounces Sah-wn). And Halloween led to All Saints Day and All Souls Day.

Suddenly Joane, a very minor character in The Masks We Wear, needs to sneak out on the eve of Samhain to have an adventure.

I found a little inspiration image:

Now, I can’t wait to start writing. (Just a little break from my regular writing).

Watch in the next few days form my second annual autumn/harvest/halloween story.

New on YouTube–Regency Romance

March 7, 2023 / Gigi Lynn

Introducing my new novel writing adventure

Your suggestions are guiding the story

When an author, in any genre, writes a first draft, it often starts with messy, half-formed ideas, and the outcome needs a lot of work. To write that draft with an audience is terrifying, but that’s what I’m doing?

I’m not only writing this regency romance in front of an audience, I’m writing it according to feedback and suggestions from that audience. Week by week, I read comments from those who listen to the previous week’s story. Then I’m writing the next section for your listening pleasure.

Every weekend, I upload a video where I read the week’s writing. I am anxious, not knowing beforehand exactly where we’ll go. But I am also excited. I’m challenged, and I am learning new things, improving my craft, and talking with my readers. It’s scary fun.

So, welcome to my new writing adventure. Join me on YouTube at Gigi Lynn for romance. I’ve put up two “episodes” so far. Listen and tell me what you think should happen next.

Three New Romances In the Month of November

December 12, 2022 / Gigi Lynn

Writing Romance–Fast

I tried something new and challenging in my Romance Writing life in November (Challenging myself is becoming a theme).

You probably have never heard of Nanowrimo, but for the last few years, I’ve been wanting to try it. Nanowrimo stands for National Novel Writing Month. This world-wide event is held every November–Yes, I’m sorry to say, it is in November.

When an author or aspiring author signs up for Nanowrimo, they accept the challenge to begin a new novel on November 1, and try to write 50,000 words by the end of the month. The idea is that by the end of the month, you will have finished a short novel. Think of it–a new romance novel in one month!

I want to tell you about my month long experience. First, let me say, I did not cheat. I planned start a brand new novel that has been percolating in the back of my mind for the last few months. The main character of this first in a new series is Angelica, or Angel as her family calls her, so I’ll use Angel as the working title for now.

Though I didn’t cheat, I also didn’t follow the rules exactly. I just could not begin Angel before I finished An Honorable Man. So, I spent the first 5-6 days finishing the last 11,000 words of this novel. I love it so much, I had a hard time moving on. I just wanted to go back and start editing so I can get it into your hands as soon as possible. But I held strong and kept writing.

So, even though I didn’t begin with the new work on November 1, I planned to write a whole new work in November. I would just start on the 6th. Then, the night before I started Angel, I had this idea for a romance novella. It came into my mind almost fully formed in terms of plotting and characters. I made a sudden departure from my plan and started writing a totally new romance novella.

This is Lady Evelyn’s story. It has some Cinderella elements and then turns into a forced marriage trope. The working title is Honeyed Moon. I worked through the bulk of the month telling the story of Evie and Cam (Lord Camden). I get chills when I think of this novella, which I do believe I will add to in editing. I think it needs to be a full length novel.

So, there I am on Thanksgiving day, surrounded by my family (all 37 of them). I’ve finished for former Work In Progress (An Honorable Man). I’ve finished the surprise Novella (Honeyed Moon). But I am still 5000 words shy of the 50,000 word mark.

So, after my family left, I went back to the original plan and began my new series with Angel and Ramsay’s story. I’m four chapters into that story.

Three novels in various stages in one month. I’m astounded, and tired. Mostly, I am so excited to bring these romances to you. In a perfect world, you’ll have one in January, one in March, and one in May/June. Cross your fingers for me. I’m working furiously.

Romance: Simple and Subtle Steps in the Dance of Love

October 31, 2022 / Gigi Lynn

Let’s Bring Back the Look (you know the one), the Gentle Touch, the Sweet Awareness?

Now, I really love a good kissing scene. Who doesn’t? But sometimes I feel cheated when a book or movie rushes right to that kiss and even hurries on past the kiss without giving me time to appreciate the romantic journey.

Does anyone else feel like we’ve left some sweet, important, fulfilling, delightful steps in romance behind?

A meeting of eyes, sigh! The brush of a hand, maybe even accidentally, oh my heart. (Who doesn’t love Mr. Darcy’s hand clench after helping Lizzie into her carriage?) Such small things, except they’re not. These too are the essence of romance.

And these things aren’t just for the meet cute or start of a new relationship. These are some of the signs of continuing love. This is one way that we nurture our relationships.

Do you remember the first time a love interest looked at you with special attention? Touched you? Held your hand? Put his/her arm around you? I hope you felt that thrill. I hope you still do. And I hope that in addition to the kissing scene, you love to read, or view, the simple steps in the dance of love.

So, hold hands, give a hug–and hold on for longer. Think about a feel those little, gentle touches. Don’t miss out on these lovely, simple, treasured Romantic gestures.