Today I am visiting with author Lynn Hones, multi-faceted and multi-published! As part of the Best Ever Summer Blog Tour, Authors are talking about what inspires them today. I am also appearing on Christine London’s blog this week at http://www.christinelondon.blogspot.com
Let’s hear what Lynn has to share with us today!
When my husband and I were on our way to a beach glass festival in a nearby city, we drove by a century home that had seen better days. It was all brick, hadn’t been lived in for years and looked sadly forlorn. Situated on a hill between a river and lake, it overlooks a little harbor town which makes for a quaint view.
We always planned to buy such a house, but it never panned out. I wrote the number down on the for sale sign and called a few days later. The price floored us, it was so cheap. We went with the realtor to take a look inside that day and, to make a long story short, we bought it that very afternoon.
Half the fun of such an impromptu purchase is listening to everyone tell us how insane we were. Did you have the water tested? Did you have anything tested? No, we answered. We liked it and we bought it before we even thought about inspectors. Hard to believe we’re in our fifties and not unaware teens.
A lot of our friends and family laughed because it definitely looks like a haunted house and because I’m a writer of ghost stories they figured I bought it for the ambiance. Although I do go to great lengths to make my stories as accurate and real as possible, I don’t buy haunted houses simply for the ambiance of writing a spookier story. It does however, help.
Once we settled into the little town, I realized that the history in it is so interesting I began at once reading all I could about the crazy old days of knife fights, drunken brawls and women of the night. Actually, the street our house is on once had nothing but bars and houses of ill repute lining it. From my research, I’ve learned our home wasn’t a bordello, thank goodness, but was the home of a lake captain. Over one-hundred and fifty years old, I knew that if our walls could talk they’d have quite a tale to tell. As I’ve said before, I can “feeI” history and my new home radiated with it. I found out that a lot of the homes in the area were on the route of the Underground Railroad. It was a large abolitionist town before the Civil War and a house that looks similar to ours, and on the other side of the little town, is a museum because it was a famous safe house.
This, of course, got my curiosity up, which in turn churned my creative juices, (ew, that sounds kinda gross,) and brought me to the library for research. Something tells me one of my next books will be about a little town, with safe houses and bordellos. I can’t wait to start writing that one. Maybe next I’ll have to actually buy an old bordello. Naw…I’ll let my imagination play that one out.
Haunted Vows excerpt
Not owning much in the way of play or work clothes, Jaylyn wore one of Eli’s old t-shirts, cut off just under her breasts. The stretched neck slid over her now tan shoulder and her hair, pulled back in a ponytail at the neck, came loose, strands of her blonde hair sticking to her neck and cheeks. Her cut off jean shorts showed off the bottoms of her firm cheeks and she wore no panties or bra in the heat. He sported only a pair of frayed, cutoff jeans himself and she couldn’t concentrate on the task at hand, he looked so good.
“Damn!” Pulling her hand away from the newly boiled jars, she sucked on her finger. “These puppies are hot.” His non-response confused her, so she turned to see why he didn’t answer. When she did, the look of the hungry tiger radiated from his eyes once again. His bare chest and arms glinting with sweat, rugged, masculine her gaze traveled to his hair, strewn about wildly in the heat. His legs, his bare feet, every inch of him oozed sensuousness, manly perfection.
A cool breeze, out of nowhere, came by and her breasts, flat in the heat, rose, showing through the fabric of the thin t-shirt she wore. Mental telepathy played a part in her removing her shirt and after she did, her bare breasts, small, but firm showed off her perfect pink nipples. He licked his lips and she unbuttoned her shorts, pulling the zipper down slowly. They fell to the floor and she removed one leg and then the other. Another breeze, this one stronger, came through the window and whipped her hair around her shoulders and the once light kitchen darkened and she glanced outside.
“I think a storm’s heading in,” she said softly.
“In more ways than one!” He crossed the kitchen as a flash of lightning struck off in the distance and the boom of thunder it produced banked off the walls. He lifted her into his arms and kicking open the back door with his foot, he brought her into the yard and walked far back into a clearing, laying her down roughly.