The hero of my Samantha Lytton series of romantic comedies is an
art thief named Nate. Or maybe Sam. (Yes, Sam and Samantha--just go with it.)
He’s a liar. He’s so shady his name keeps changing. And he’s the kind of man
every woman dreams of; he grows into being not just what his heroine needs, but
who she deserves.
He’s not an alpha male; he doesn’t run around punching people and
doing things for Samantha’s “own good.” Ugh. I wouldn’t put up with that crap
in real life, and my heroines don’t in books. Respect means understanding that
a woman is a human being capable of knowing what she wants all by herself.
That’s my kind of hero.
Sam changes his life in order to fit into Samantha’s because he’s a
big enough boy to understand a great thing when she bops him on the head (um,
accidentally!) in her sleep. Heroines so often change for a man--give up a job,
whatever. But my hero doesn’t subscribe to narrow, old-fashioned gender roles.
He follows his heart. And he realizes that going on the straight and narrow for
a bodacious redhead is a helluva lot better than rotting in jail drinking
toilet wine. My hero is no moron.
He encourages Samantha to believe in herself. When they meet, she’s
in a very low point in her life, working a day job far removed from her dreams
of being an actress. He (accidentally, sorta) ruins her life in his pursuit of
a pilfered Picasso. Samantha discovers depths of courage and fortitude she
didn’t know she had, and Sam applauds this, even though they both think,
initially, that their romance is fly-by-night. He’s a scoundrel, but not a bad
guy. That’s my kind of hero! Why do you think I married a man who looks like
Han Solo?
Sam is funny. I don’t know about you, but my funny bone is located
right next to my lady boner. Even though Sam’s a scoundrel who puts Samantha on
the run from gun goons, he makes her laugh. Funny + great butt = DEFINITELY MY
KIND OF HERO. Heroes must be evaluated from all sides, and from the toes up,
ifyouknowwhatImean.
My kind of hero uses a condom. No whining. No bullying. No
guilt-tripping. And when they run out? He goes to the freaking store. Don’t be
silly, wrap that willy!
The best heroes understand that emotions make us stronger, better,
more empathetic people. Feelings aren’t weak; they’re wonderful and terrible
and stronger than a black hole, and only the brave survive. My kind of hero and
heroine are made better through their love, through their vulnerability, even
if they have to learn how.
And the bestest kind of hero...knows where to find the clit!
You can meet Sam, Samantha, and their international escapades in my
rom-coms THE DIMPLE OF DOOM, THE DIMPLE STRIKES BACK, and THE WRATH OF DIMPLE.
Thanks for having me, Melissa!
Title:
The Dimple of Doom (Book 1 of 3 in the Samantha Lytton series)
Publisher:
Totally Bound
Date
Published: 12-1-2013
Genre:
Contemporary Adult Romantic Comedy
Word
Count: 80K
It may sound like common sense, but never hump
an art thief. Turns out, Samantha Lytton's Common-Sense-O-Meter is super duper
broken.
Failed
actress Samantha Lytton is getting along just fine in her lonely little life
when a charming criminal called Sam or Nate or maybe even Richmond kisses her,
square dances most provocatively, opens his not-so-wicked heart, and gets her
in trouble with not one, but two international art theft rings as well as the
LAPD.
She's
either gonna end up in jail or famous. Maybe both.
Along the way, she fights for her life and falls for this funny, sexy disaster of a man… and learns that finding happily-ever-after with yourself is the first step to real contentment. A cute dimple is just the second.
Along the way, she fights for her life and falls for this funny, sexy disaster of a man… and learns that finding happily-ever-after with yourself is the first step to real contentment. A cute dimple is just the second.
THE
DIMPLE OF DOOM: Chapter
One: It’s a Not-So-Wonderful Life
Accountants
should not be so sexy.
It
all started at the office Christmas party, as many terrible hangovers do.
My
palms began to sweat at the sight of The Accountant walking in my direction.
His shining eyes said, I wanna spread your sheet, his masterful gait said,
Damn, I’m masterful, and his tantalizing smirk said, I’ve read the Kama Sutra—all
the way through.
I
swallowed the lump of lust in my throat and twiddled with the tablecloth of the
catered buffet table. My usual party plan involved making winsome eyes at the
food, but tonight I salivated over more than just the pigs in a blanket.
"Potato
ball?" he asked. Sam Turner, aka The Accountant, held the fried offering
palm up on a festive red and green paper plate.
I
had the hots for a dude named Sam. My name is Samantha. Samantha ‘n’ Sam. It
was the stuff of obnoxious wedding invitations.
What
color were his hazel eyes today? Glancing up, I slid into hormone heaven. He
stood, eyes mossy green pools of sensual seductiveness, and offered me the
Garden of Eden apple. Except it was a potato ball.
Cocking
my head, I posed in an alluring manner that I hoped brought Marilyn Monroe to
mind. I should say something. Something not stupid.
"I
love balls." Oh, damn. "And potatoes!" Did I just tell him I
loved to eat balls? "I mean I love to eat food! In ball form. You know.
Because it’s easy. To eat. Except when it rolls. Then it can be hard to
catch."
Stop.
Talking.
Buy
links: Available in print and digital from:
Author
Bio:
Lucy Woodhull has always loved le steamy romance. And laughing. And both
things at the same time, although that can get awkward. Her motto is
"Laugh and the world laughs with you, cry and you'll short-circuit your
Kindle." That's why she writes funny books, because goodness knows we all
need to escape the real world once in a while. She believes in red lipstick,
equality, and the interrobang. Hailing from Southern California, she daydreams
with her husband and a very fat cat who doesn't like you.
Fun post - best wishes for a successful book release!
ReplyDeleteLucy,
ReplyDeleteI'm a sucker for Han Solo types. Thank you so much for participating in "My Kind of Hero". :-)