I've read I don’t want to even admit how many heroes and created seven so far in my writing career and My Kind of Hero has to be flawed. My leading man has to have problems and imperfections. (Even my most stereotypical alpha hero, from historical romance Unbidden, has flaws.) I want strength but I don't like domineering men. He must be capable of respect for a woman, and forming a relationship beyond physical attraction.
I'm currently infatuated with Boone Ramer. (My Kind of Hero is usually whomever I’m writing at the moment.) Boone is the male lead from my new release, Eruption. He's the second son in a family of Nebraska cattle ranchers, and he’s a level headed, all-American nice guy. The kind of guy a woman stares at and, even as she does it, isn't sure why. I physically modeled him on a youthful Bailey Chase, the man who plays Branch on the TV series "Longmire." Boone's easy on the eyes, with a nice body from playing football, but not underwear model handsome. He's the boy you wish your daughter would bring home instead of the unemployed goth biker dude, and confuses my main character, Violet. She thinks she likes bad boys but develops a giant freshman crush on Boone. (She and her BFF/roomie refer to him as Hotness!)
If he wants to reciprocate, he hides it, because he's an RA in her dorm. A relationship with her is against school policy and, as you've probably guessed, Boone is a rule-follower.
At least on the surface.
When the Yellowstone volcano erupts, and the U.S. struggles with the effects of ash fallout, Boone reveals a little more cowboy.
We see behind his restraint to the alpha male ready to be unleashed. He and Violet are in close proximity for a few weeks, and something about her incites urges in him that aren't gentlemanly at all. And that's my kind of hero: a man whose surface doesn't necessarily reveal all of him. A character who sometimes surprises even himself with the questions and unresolved issues clanging around in his head. And of course, he needs a heroine who helps him unearth all that.
I don't know what to call my kind of hero. A Scarred Deep Alpha? Mannerly Mysterious Manly Man? Whatever it is, he's what works for me!
I'm giving away some Eruption swag made with a cover charm and a Yellowblown™ logo charm. For a chance to win, sign up for my newsletter at www.jillhughey.com/contact between now and September 27.
Title:Eruption: Yellowblown™ Book One
Date Published: September 13, 2014
Genre: New Adult contemporary romance
I’m in the middle of the perfect college semester, hundreds of miles from Mom, with an awesome roomie and my freshman crush finally becoming a sophomore reality—Hotness! I’m figuring out calculus, I’ve got both hands on the handlebars and the wind of freedom in my hair. What on earth could slow my roll?
How about if the Yellowstone volcano erupts for the first time in 630,000 years, spewing a continuous load of ash (crap) all over North America? Think that’ll put a kink in my bicycle chain?
Make that kinks, plural, because here’s a scientific fact I’ll bet you didn’t know. Nothing ruins the perfect semester like a super caldera. Now that I’ve made you smarter today, maybe you can tell me how to keep my life cruising in the right direction—no to Mom, yes to roomie, double yes to Hotness!—during a global disaster?
My lame name is Violet and, in the interest of full disclosure, I’m not hanging from the side of a cinder cone on the last page of this trauma, but there’s definitely more to come. Unless, of course, humans become extinct and then there’s not. Duh.
Eruption is on sale for 99 cents until September 27 when it will go up to $2.99.
We’d made it about half a block when Twyla called, “Boonie!”
He sighed and turned.
“Hey, what post-party are you going to?” She’d pulled her hair up in a meticulously sloppy bunch on the back of her head. Her pack of she-wolves had been restored, and their cheeks all sported football players’ numbers, but hers were conspicuously bare.
“I’m not. I have to check on the guys on my floor. First game weekend and all.”
“I guess.” She shoved her hand out at me. “Hi, I’m Twyla.”
“Violet.” I shook her hand then made a point of re-insinuating my fingers with Boone’s.
“Are you new to Western Case?” she asked.
“No. I met you last year, during rush.” A minute narrowing of her eyes confirmed she didn’t like my calling her on her bad. My nerves ratcheted up again. I despised conflict, especially with this kind of girl. Been there, done that.
She recovered to saccharin astonishment. “I’m so sorry. I don’t remember you at all.”
“Not surprising. The rush experience was entirely forgettable for me, too.”
Boone snorted. Gagga Kappa sister-clones gasped from their backup singer half circle. “Sisterhood isn’t for everyone,” she said with a hint of Southern twang.
“Can I get an amen?” I joked as a wiggle of my hand sent a signal to Boone.
He eased down the sidewalk. “See you later.”
Twyla’s mouth opened as I turned to walk with him.
“Boonie?” I said when we’d gained some distance from her.
“We dated at the end of sophomore year, a few weeks into junior.” After a full minute of silence, he pushed open the door of the busy restaurant. A flood of oven heat and the odors of food and college students assaulted us after hours in the fresh air. “Is that a deal-breaker or something?”
J. Hughey knows what a girl wants. Independence. One or two no-matter-what-happens friends. A smokin’ hot romance. A basic understanding of geological concepts. Huh? Okay, maybe not every girl is into geology, but J. Hughey is, and in the Yellowblown™ series she combines her passion for a timeless love story with her interest in geeky stuff to help Violet Perch get a life, despite an ongoing global catastrophe.
J. Hughey also writes historical romance as Jill Hughey.
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