Sorry I've been offline for a few days...but I promise I have a good reason for it. My brain got completely hijacked by a story idea. A story idea that needed out, now. And so, for five straight days, I wrote and wrote. In the Service of the King, a dark paranormal erotic romance intended for Harlequin's Nocturne Bites line, was the very, very exciting result.
That experience has me thinking about sources of inspiration again. In the Service of the King is almost entirely the result of my thinking of a title for which I had absolutely no story. For weeks I've been bouncing around the title, Bound and Determined. Man, that title is hot. But, lol, I've never had a story to go along with it! Nothing that came of its own accord. But then, all of a sudden, I had an ancient Celtic vampire king marching around in my head. And, huh, he was the the one doing the binding. Hmm, yes, definite potential there. But why was he binding someone? And a world came into being--one with a tenuous alliance between a small group of humans and seven ancient vampire kings.
Something similar happened with Hearts in the Dark. The story was entirely inspired by wondering, one afternoon, what would happen between a guy and a girl if they got trapped in an elevator for hours on end? And, oh, it's an old elevator, and the lights go out too. Yeah, the possibilities were too good to pass up.
Often, though, inspiration is a whole lot less cerebral. Music does it for me sometimes. John McLaughlin's song, "Proud Father," has created an entire plot in my head, one that stems in part from my own childhood experiences without a father. And now I have what I think is going to be a very compelling outlet for those feelings.
My 6-year-old daughter put a kernel of a story in my head one night when she imagined mermaids living in the Bay waters she can see from her bedroom window. The YA story that blossomed from her wonderings is percolating in my head, and I'm not the slightest bit shy about asking her questions. What would those people be like? What would their world be like? Her answers are sometimes fascinating!
Sometimes inspiration comes from unexpected candid moments. I have no idea what to do with this one, yet, but the image remains so vivid in my mind: on Easter, I went to the cemetery to visit my mom and grandmother. In the distance, I noticed a twenty-something man kneeling in front of a grave. He stayed there the entire time I visited my family's graves, never moving, at least not as far as I could see. He was very attractive and wearing a rather sexy leather jacket. And, parked on the driveway near where he knelt, was a completely hot bright yellow motorcycle. Something about the hunch of his shoulders made me ache for him, and contrasted with his seeming bad-boy attractiveness, I have been hooked by that image ever since. I can't wait for the story to gel around it.
So, where does inspiration come from for you?
Thanks for reading,