Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Journey Through Right Kind of Wrong with Chelsea Fine



Author Chelsea Fine is taking us on a journey in writing her newest novel,  Right Kind of Wrong. You can follow along with the blogs by following this schedule.


September 22-The Book Enthusiast
September 23-Vilma's Book Blog
September 28-True Story Book Blog



    RIGHT KIND OF WRONG Synopsis:

    Sometimes wrong can feel oh so right . . .

    Jenna Lacombe needs complete control, whether it’s in the streets . . . or between the sheets. So when she sets out on a solo road trip to visit her family in New Orleans, she’s beyond annoyed that the infuriatingly sexy Jack Oliver wants to hitch a ride with her. Ever since they shared a wild night together last year, he’s been trying to strip away her defenses one by one. He claims he’s just coming along to keep her safe-but what’s not safe for her is prolonged exposure to the tattooed hottie.

    Jack can’t get Jenna out from under his skin. She makes him feel alive again after his old life nearly destroyed him-and losing her is not an option. Now Jack’s troubles are catching up to him, and he’s forced to return to his hometown in Louisiana. But when his secrets put them both in harm’s way, Jenna will have to figure out how far she’s willing to let love in . . . and how much she already has.

    ABOUT CHELSEA FINE:

    Chelsea lives in Phoenix, Arizona where she spends most of her time writing stories, painting murals, and avoiding housework at all costs. She’s ridiculously bad at doing dishes and claims to be allergic to laundry. Her obsessions include: superheroes, coffee, sleeping-in, and crazy socks. She lives with her husband and two children, who graciously tolerate her inability to resist teenage drama on TV and her complete lack of skill in the kitchen.

    LINKS:     



    Journey Through Right Kind Of Wrong by Chelsea Fine
    Chapters 9-12




    If I could title this portion of Right Kind Of Wrong, it would be, SEX, LIES, & SHADY BAD GUYS, because that is precisely what’s going on in these chapters. Ohhh, yeah.


    Chapter 9





    Did someone say…SEX? Why, yes, they did. And that someone was me. ;) Everyone loves a little hanky-panky in their adult romances and Right Kind Of Wrong is no exception. Jenna and Jack didn’t rush to the bedroom, though. They started out as friends and then…well, this happened:


    Jack and I had a connection from the very beginning. It was like we were soul mates, but not in a stupid, obsessive way. There was no silly flirting, no jealousy, no awkward tension between us. It was always easy.
    Jack and Jenna: friends.
    Jack and Jenna: work buddies.
    Jack and Jenna: partners in crime and late-night tattoo decisions.
    But then one night, everything changed and we became something entirely different.
    Jack and Jenna: drunk and naked in Jack’s bedroom.

    That’s right. THEY DID IT. Haha. I’m such a toddler. Anyway… One of the more thrilling aspects of writing a book is the first time you get to write your characters getting all hot and heavy. Sex scenes come easily for me. Like, CRAZY easy. I’m not sure what that says about me…but yeah. I love writing sex. It turns me on. It makes me feel powerful. And it helps me better relate to my characters. It just does.

    ** FUN FACT **
    I’ve written sex scenes for all my in-love characters—even characters that never have sex in my books—for myself because it helps me write their relationships more honestly. I’m sure a physiologist would have a field day with that. Haha.




    While writing Jack and Jenna’s first sexy scene, I listened to
    “Hurricane” by MS MR.

    MS MR, one of my favorite bands, has a way of composing music that sounds both sad and sexy at the same time and I think the eerie-slash-melancholy vibe of “Hurricane” suits many scenes in Right Kind Of Wrong, especially the HAWT scenes.



    Chapter 10

    This is where Jack’s shady past begins to reveal itself. I didn’t exactly know where I was going to take Jack, as far as his personal history was concerned, so I just let my writing take over and…wow. I was just as surprised as readers to learn what Jack had been up to before moving to Arizona and meeting Jenna. Haha. That’s the beauty of writing without an outline, I guess. Here’s an excerpt, to give you an idea of how desperate Jack was to shield Jenna from eth truth about his past.


    Vipers is known for being a hub of criminal activity, complete with police raids and the occasional murder, and it’s where I practically grew up. Not one of my proudest personal facts.
    Pulling into the gravel lot, I park us in the back, more out of habit than convenience, and kill the engine. Then, as I watch the comings and goings of the who’s who of big crimes in small towns, I ponder which is safer—the dark parking lot adjacent to a run-down industrial park, or the crowd comprised of questionable individuals inside the bar.
    “You wait here,” I say to Jenna as I get out of the car. “I’ll be right back.”
    “Uh-uh.” She opens her door and climbs out as well. “I need to pee.”
    I look at her, trying to conceal my panic. “Can’t you hold it until we get Samson back to my place?”
    She arches a sassy brow. “Hold it? No, Dad. I’ve been holding it for three hundred miles.”
    “You don’t want to use the bathroom in this place. Trust me.”
    She scrunches her face in confusion and annoyance. “What’s your deal, Jack? Let a girl pee, okay?” She starts marching for the front doors.
    In three quick strides I’m beside her and talking in a hushed tone so my words come across less scolding than I mean them to be. “If you go in here with me, I need you to stay by my side. Do you understand?”
    She snorts. “In the bathroom? Yeah, I don’t think so.”
    “I’m being serious.” I pull her arm and she spins to face me. But her look of irritation quickly dissolves into bafflement when she sees my expression. “This isn’t a bar like the Thirsty Coyote,” I say. “Hell, this isn’t really a public bar at all. And you…” I glance her over and hot possessiveness courses through my veins. “You are going to draw attention.”
    She’s wearing a tight black tank top, which molds to her chest in an all-too-delicious way, with a pair of tiny red shorts that show off her long, flawless legs. Rings cover her fingers and climb up her ears, while a diamond stud marks the side of her nose and the arch of her eyebrow. Her long lashes are thick and dark, sweeping over amber eyes filled with spirit. And tattoos wind over her shoulders, down her arms, and peek beneath the hem of her shorts, curving around her left thigh with the bottom half of a mermaid’s tail.
    My eyes trail up and over every inch of her and I swallow. “I need you to stay right by me when we go inside.” I lower my voice. “Please.”
    She shifts her jaw back and forth, like she’s not sure what to think, but finally shakes her head. “Fine. Whatever. But so help me Jesus, if you try to follow me into the bathroom stall I will yank off your balls and flush them. Understood?”
    I narrow my eyes and move forward for the door. “Murder. Castration. You’re a violent little thing, you know that?” My tone is relaxed but I’m anything but as we near the door.
    Not just because I know what waits for us inside, or because I hate who I’m about to turn back into, but because there is a very good chance that I might have to follow Jenna into the bathroom stall to keep her safe. And I really don’t feel like guarding my balls.


    Chapters 11-12


    At this point in Right Kind Of Wrong, things are a bit heavy. Jack and Jenna have a carload of sexual tension, while each of them are dealing with their own worrisome personal issues, and to top it all off, Jack’s trying to keep his past…well, in the past and far away from Jenna. So I felt like the story needed some comic relief, thus…

    MEET THE OLIVERS!


    These chapters introduce two of my favorite characters in this novel, Samson Oliver (Jack’s little brother) and Lilly Oliver (Jack’s mother). And characters they are! Because I don’t outline my books, I rarely know what my characters are going to be like so writing Samson and Lilly was a total ride.

    Meet Samson:

    Samson spins around and points a wobbly, drunk finger at me. “Hey, it’s not my fault Trixie kicked me out of her apartment and made me homeless.”
    “Uh, yeah it is,” I say. “You slept with her best friend—”
    “I did not sleep with her. I just slept with her,” he says, bumbling over his words. “Why is that so hard for people to understand?”



    Meet Lilly:

    I cringe, hoping Jenna doesn’t think I was raised by some crazy woman. “Hey, Mom—”
    “Trixie, my ass,” Mom mutters, her eyes glued to Samson as he trudges inside the house and flops facedown on the couch. “Sleeping outside is probably ten times better than sleeping in that girl’s bed.”
    “Mom—”
    “What the hell kind of name is Trixie, anyway? Can’t you boys find women without whore names—”
    Mom!” I raise my voice and she finally stops talking and turns around. “This is Jenna,” I say, inhaling sharply through my nose.
    She squints through the darkness and manages to look slightly mortified when she realizes we have company. “Oh, hell.”
    I gesture from Jenna to the crazy woman standing on the porch. “Jenna, meet my well-meaning, but very tacky, mother.”


    The Olivers, ladies and gentlemen! Aren’t they fun? Haha.

    Thank you for taking this journey with me through these chapters of Right Kind Of Wrong! Until next time, I’ll leave you with the closing passage of chapter twelve.

    Jenna takes a step back and purposely avoids my eyes. “I think I’m going to head out.”
    The idea of Jenna leaving before I’ve had a chance to explain, or at least properly apologize, for the intense night she’s been through puts me on edge.
    “Don’t you think you should hang around for a bit?” I say. “So we can, you know…talk?” I say that last word through my teeth and narrow my gaze on her.
    Her eyes flit from side to side, looking at my mother, looking at Samson. “Oh, no. You and I can talk anytime.” She shoots me an I-want-to-get-the-hell-out-of-here look. “I should really be on my way. My mom is probably waiting up and everything.” She shakes her phone in an aw-shucks kind of way.
    “Great idea,” I say, a new, brilliant, foolproof master plan blossoming in my mind. “Let’s call your mom.”
    Her sugar-sweet act drops. “I don’t think that’s necessary, Jack.”
    “Really? Because I think your mom might have some valuable insight into whether or not you should drive home this late.”
    She glances at her screen. “Look at that. My battery’s almost dead.” Dramatic sigh. “I guess I’ll have to call her after I charge it in the car.”
    “No worries,” I say. “I have your mom’s number in my phone, so I’ll just…” Pulling my phone from my pocket, I dial the number and hold it to my ear with a triumphant smile.
    Jenna’s eyes widen in horror.
    “Hello, Sherry?” I say with a smile when her mother answers. “Yeah, this is Jack Oliver. I’m…” Jenna glares at me while her mother coos over the phone. “Yep, I’m that Jack.” I wink at Jenna, who’s obviously told her mother more about me than she wants me to know. “So I’m here in Little Vail with Jenna and since it’s getting pretty late, I suggested Jenna stay at my mom’s house with me. But Jenna’s afraid that you might be disappointed since you’re waiting up for her and all…uh-huh…uh-huh…I know. I said the exact same thing. And we both know how stubborn she is about wearing her glasses at night…” Jenna sneers at me and my grin grows. “Right…uh-huh…so what do you think? I certainly don’t want to take away from precious time with your daughter, but I also want what’s best for her safety…uh-huh…I couldn’t agree more…Sure. Here she is.” I hold the phone out to Jenna.
    She stares daggers at me for a few beats then snatches the phone from my hand. “Hi, Mama…uh-huh…uh-huh…okay…bye.” Hanging up, she shoves the phone back at me with a tight smile. “Looks like I’m staying here tonight.”
    “Fantastic,” my mom says, grinning from ear to ear. “Now, come on in and I’ll get you set up for the night.”
    As we follow my mother up the porch steps Jenna turns to me with a scowl. “I hate you.”
    I smile. “I know.”


    To be continued… ;)




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