I love getting lost in movies almost as much as getting lost in a good book, don’t you? Actors especially fascinate me. The really good ones are like writers, the way they create their characters from the inside out.
I’m not star struck, for some reason I never have been. I see actors as real people – creative, artistic, sometimes flaky people, lol. The same as you and me. They have hopes and dreams, get hungry and sometimes lonely like we do. And want to be appreciated for who they are underneath all the glitz and glamour.
So it was fun to create two characters who’ve been in show business a long time and maybe need a little nudge to keep going. To find new passion for what they do so well. Because sometimes when we give so much of ourselves to a craft, we get a little depleted.
Madame Eve has a cure for that. :) She helps inspire a new sizzle and spark for my hero and heroine, Jared and Susan. I hope you’ll enjoy their story as much as I enjoyed writing it! Happy release day to The Ex Factor!
Like something out of a horror flick, the white rose advanced. So pure and delicate, its petals caught the candlelight with a soft but brilliant glow. But how…? “How did you get that?”
Amusement flickered across his features. “I assure you, I didn’t sneak into anyone’s yard and snip it.”
She glanced around. “Was it already at the table when you sat down?”
“You….” She must seem an idiot, but she couldn’t fathom it. “You?” Her 1Night Stand date?
“Me,” he said sheepishly.
“There’s been a mistake.” Madame Eve’s first, apparently. And wow, what a doozy. “I specified a date with a real person.”
Mirth practically bubbled up. “I am a real person.”
“No, I meant, yes, of course you’re a real person. But you’re a director. A world-famous director.” About as far from ordinary as anyone could get.
“I’m still real.” He held his arm out. “Want to pinch me?”
She gently shoved it away. “No.”
He rose to a crouch. “Maybe you’d rather pinch me somewhere else?” He swung his rear toward her.
A chuckle escaped. Great butt. Tempting offer. She gestured for him to sit. “No,” she whispered. “I’m simply explaining there’s been a mistake. I have to text Madame Eve.” She whipped out her cell.
His hand enveloped hers. “No, there hasn’t.”
Her shoulders slumped in defeat. Oh, this poor man. If she wasn’t dead set on finding someone who hated movies, she’d be tempted to—
He leaned across the table, the white rose between them. “Madame Eve’s reputation remains untarnished. She filled both our requests.”
Holy hell. He arranged a date, too.
Cate Masters has made beautiful central Pennsylvania her home, but she’ll always be a Jersey girl at heart. When not spending time with her dear hubby, she can be found in her lair, concocting a magical brew of contemporary, historical, and fantasy/paranormal stories with her cat Chairman Maiow and dog Lily as company. Look for her at http://catemasters.blogspot.com and in strange nooks and far-flung corners of the web.