I’ve always been pretty lucky with my books because they come to me in dreams. I tend to dream scene by scene each night and then write it out the next day. I think what happens is, well you know how they say we only use 10% of our brains? I believe that when we sleep – dream – we tap into at least part of that other 90%. That that’s where our creativity comes from. If we write down our dreams we have a way to tap into it.
So, one day about two years or so ago I dreamt about this absolutely gorgeous guy who was the epitome of a hero. This was the first layer of the story. This guy was a Hollywood Hottie and he played parts in movies that were the epitome of my personal hero as well as one I thought could be anyone’s.
The second layer came from a poster I have of the Marine’s. You may remember oh, maybe 10 years ago there was a commercial for the Marine Corps where it shows two knights on a tournament field fighting. Their swords clash as they charge each other on their horses. The commercial shows a few other scenes finishing with the knight engaging in further sword play and then morphing into a Marine in his dress blues. It ends with a statement about how there are still knights who stand for the right with us today. My boyfriend, who flew 53’s for the Marine Corps, gave me a copy of a poster based on that commercial. Marine’s are our modern day knights.
So I went a step further and made my Marine Hero a woman F/A-18 pilot. Hence – He plays America’s Hero, she IS America’s Hero.
I happen to be lucky at the time I started writing the story because I was on vacation and each morning I’d wake up and write what I’d dreamt the night before. I finished the first draft in two weeks. There were, I knew, some issues to be addressed. I’m a stickler for accuracy, even in fiction and I wanted to be certain I was spot on.
Luck was with me because I quickly found two F/A-18 pilots who were willing to look over my flight scenes. MC and Razor (call signs) looked over my take off’s, landings, air combat maneuvers and Marine protocol. They also took the time to have my space shuttle sequences looked at for accuracy.
America’s Hero was fun to write and I was pretty lucky meeting and making some new friends along the way.
Blog url: http://regantaylorsworld.blogspot.com/
He plays America's Hero. She IS America's Hero.
When Hollywood Hottie Austin Quinn reads about Marine Corps Major Cass Winter's crash and daring rescue he decides to bring the pilot's story to the big screen. But the Major wants nothing to do with the actor they call America's Hero.
“Yeah. I’ve watched you. No, not like one of your gaga fans.” She told him. “You aren’t that interesting, you know. You’re just a guy, a guy with long blond hair and amazing green eyes. I’ll give you the amazing on the eyes. They’re a color I don’t think I’ve ever seen before, and when they go from pale to that kind of dark mossy green like they are now, I’ll admit, if I was your normal kind of girl I’d be intrigued.”
“So you aren’t normal?”
“I’m normal. I’m just not into actors. I prefer guys with substance.”
“And I don’t have substance?”
He cut her off when his lips swept across hers. She wanted to feel outrage, offended, but his lips felt so good on hers. Warm, inviting, like they were meant to be molded to hers.
And not just her lips, the thought of those lips moving down her neck, to her breasts, rubbing, not sucking or licking but rubbing across her nipples sent a shiver down her spine that ended between her legs. It didn’t end, it kept on pulsing through her, a wave of desire she didn’t think existed.
She’d been turned on by guys before, had some great sex, but this was a whole other experience, and it was just a kiss. A closed mouth kiss that left her wanting more. Wanting so much more that without thought she parted her lips, welcoming him into her mouth.
Then, when his tongue met hers, a quiver of desire shot through her again. “Quinn,” was all she managed before she brought her arms up around his neck, her fingers entangling in his thick hair. In turn he drew her into his arms, cradling her close, holding her like he cherished her above all else.
In the back of her mind she wondered if she had brought this on and then just as quickly pushed the thought away to simply enjoy the kiss. If there hadn’t been a loud, shrill bird call from outside the shack Cass would have pulled Quinn to the ground and demanded he have his way with her.
“What was that?” Quinn asked.
“A bird, I think. It didn’t sound like the merry men and their bird calls.”
“You think we should check it out?”
“Definitely. If we’re not alone we need to find out sooner rather than later. And, I think we need to think about finding some dinner, you know?”
She handed him one of the pistols. “You know how to fire one of these?”
“Ah, sure. No problem.”
“If you don’t, Quinn, tell me. I don’t want to waste bullets and powder if you haven’t ever fired one.”
“And you’ve fired an old gun like this?”