I am SOOOO tickled to have debut author Melanie Dickerson on my blog today. If you haven’t had the chance to see the beautiful cover of her book or watch the book trailer, here’s your chance. The book trailer is the BEST one I’ve ever seen. Zondervan really pulled out all the stops, didn’t they?
Melanie has been writing for years and working among authors within ACFW, judging contest and serving in various capacities. During this time, she’s garnered some lovely awards for her writing as well, but the best reward for all her hard work was THE CALL. Yes – almost as if the skies opened up and light shone down just for Melanie. Zondervan wanted to publish her novel!
I am thrilled to get to share this wonderful news with you and rejoice with her. What a blessing and so. much. fun. To learn more about Melanie, check out her new website at www.melaniedickerson.com. Also visit her blog at http://melaniewrites.blogspot.com
So, okay – without further ado, let’s get on with the intro and ‘sneak’ peek 🙂 Actually – this is Melanie’s FIRST SNEAK PEEK!!! AHHH! Thanks for letting me be a part of it, Melanie!
What makes for great hero/heroine romantic tension – especially in that first encounter?
Wilhelm held the cup to his lips and watched the healer’s apprentice walk to the window, giving him a clear view of her profile. Her brown hair glowed in the sunlight that poured through the glass. Her nose and chin were small, her cheekbones high, and her lips full and perfect. He recognized her. She was the girl he’d seen on the street with the dog.
He knew about this girl. His father had recently approved Frau Geruscha’s request to have the maiden as her apprentice. If he remembered correctly, her name was Rose. She was a beauty, a woodcutter’s daughter who ordered his knights around as if they were lackeys. But he’d been betrothed since he was five years old, so he was used to guarding his heart. Besides, he wasn’t likely to be tempted by a woodcutter’s daughter—or a healer’s apprentice—no matter how beautiful.
Her wolfish dog sat in the corner of the room and eyed Wilhelm’s two knights, who were staring at Rose. The dog growled low in his throat, his forelegs pulled in tight, ready to spring at the men if the need arose.
Wilhelm studied Christoff and Georg. With a fair maiden in their midst, he knew his men too well to doubt their thoughts. He suddenly agreed with the dog. He didn’t want them staring at her.
“Christoff, Georg, you may go now.”
They tore their gaze away from Rose. “My lord?”
“Unless you want to watch her sew me up?” He raised his eyebrows.
The men seemed to realize what was coming and practically raced each other to the door. From outside, Christoff called, “We shall wait nearby.”
Wilhelm grinned at their haste. He brought the tea to his lips and drank until he had swallowed some of the leaves and all of the liquid, the bitter taste lingering on his tongue.
The maiden turned from the window with dread in her face. He hoped the tea worked. The pain in his leg made him clench his teeth, but he bit back a hiss, since the girl looked as though she might cry herself at any moment.
He set the cup on the floor and lay flat, letting his head sink into the prickly, straw-filled pillow. She placed a low stool next to him then rummaged through a basket at the foot of the bed and withdrew black string and a needle.
“So what is that you’re stitching me up with?” He forced his tone to sound calm, hoping to put them both at ease.
One side of her mouth went down as if she were avoiding his gaze. “Catgut, my lord.”
She stared down at the needle and he watched her draw in another big breath. She closed her eyes as she made the sign of the cross. Her lips moved silently, then her long lashes swept up, revealing warm brown eyes that brimmed with determination.
His heart beat faster.
“When Frau Geruscha sews up a wound, she tells the person to think about something else, to imagine they are in a favored, peaceful place.”
Wilhelm nodded and closed his eyes. He could do that. He wouldn’t think about the needle, the catgut, or his leg.
Her soft fingers, gentle and tentative, touched his bare leg, near the wound. But he couldn’t think about that, either. He’d think of a stream … Yes, with the sun glittering on it … a nice grassy bank and a big tree. The leaves are moving with the breeze … the grass is cool.
There it was, the stab of the needle piercing his flesh. His leg tensed in spite of himself. He forced a moan to the back of his throat. The tea wasn’t working.
Okay, there you have it! A brief intro into Melanie’s book coming out in October. And this just in. Her book was chosen for the American Christian Fiction Writers October bookclub. Is that great news or what? So many congrats, Melanie. You’ve gotta be proud.
So, talking about ‘denial’. Can you think of any situation in your wips where you’ve created some hint of denial? One of the basics of conflict in novels. Do you have it in your book? Let’s hear a little bit about ‘your’ romantic tension through denial.
Up NEXT? Join Colleen Coble and learn about what she thinks makes a great first encounter. With over 35 novels, I’m sure she can give us some great advice on how to create fire from the first encounter.