Fragments of Ourselves in Each and Every Serving

Buy Dom of the Dead HERE

By Virginia Nelson

One of the first questions I get asked when I tell people I write books is, “Do you use real life for the stories?” My answer is fragments.

Retelling reality would be boring—no one would read, “So then I got the flu and I was five minutes late to pick up my kids from school and…”

But there are fragments that for whatever reason stick out and, as a writer, you have the unique opportunity to, as Debra Dixon said in a recent luncheon speech, write what you know.

In Dom of the Dead, my newest 1Night Stand story, we join the action with Carson standing by the casket of her best friend, the man she loves. She’s held it together to that point…until she reaches out to hold his hand and his fingers don’t close around hers. Then she shatters.

This fragment of storytelling happened in my real life. Upon the death of a dear friend, I held it together. I actually remember worrying because I wasn’t crying…was there something wrong with me?

My mother showed up at the funeral home and asked me to go to the casket with her. I did. She said, “You know you can touch him, right?”

I remember thinking, “Pfft. Of course I know that.” I reached out and held his hand. When his fingers didn’t close around mine—he always held my hand when our fingers touched—suddenly it became real. Up until that moment, he wasn’t gone, not really, for me. Given that hard evidence—if he was alive he would hold my hand—I shattered. I don’t think I stopped crying for a week solid from that moment on.

Nothing else in that story comes from reality, but in every story we capture moments, snippets in time that stick out to us. I think, because it matters and because we’ve lived it, breathed it, smelled it, or felt it…it makes the stories more real, more vibrant, and more compelling to the reader. What are your thoughts?

Dom of the Dead Blurb:

She couldn’t imagine living without him.

After Carson Black’s longtime crush and best friend, Randall Stokes, dies in a motorcycle accident, she openly weeps at his funeral. In the ensuing days and weeks of inconsolable grief, she hears his voice, smells his scent, feels his desires. She must be going mad.

He was afraid to demand what he needed.

Dominant Randall Stokes loves Carson but never expressed it while alive, never daring to dream the sweet girl next door could be the submissive he needed to find satisfaction. But after his death, a much clearer perspective of her needs, wants, and desires emerges.

A ghost of a chance…

Is it too late to have what they’ve both longed for?

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About the Author:

Virginia Nelson spends her days chasing three very active kids around.  When she is not doing this, or plotting taking over the world, she likes to write, play in the mud, drive far too fast and scream at inanimate objects.  She can often be found listening to music that is far too loud and typing her next fantastic tale of blood, sex and random acts of ineptitude.  Romance, in Ms. Nelson’s opinion, is not about riding off into the sunset on the back of a horse with the knight in shining armor—it is about riding the dragon.  If the knight can keep up… well, that is love.

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