Do Writers Spend too Much Time in Their Heads?

Howdy Decadent readers! Do you think writers spend too much time in their heads?

I’m anti-social and I joke with my husband that my characters are more entertaining than real life people. I’m only half joking. Some of the work related parties I’ve had to endure for him, those pretentious, uptight gals would be difficult for anyone to tolerate.

But with school starting back to school this week, my Muse has been extra chatty in anticipation of uninterrupted writing time. So, I’ve spent a lot of time crafting scenes and working out dialogue in my head. My kids are talking and I’m fantasizing about what my characters are saying to one another. My husband is rambling about work and I’m masterminding detailed love scenes in my mind. On the television is one of my favorite T.V. shows, Lost Girl, and I’m creating a new monster to wreak havoc on my heroine/hero.

This daydreaming got me into a spot of hot water recently, too. My youngest son reminded me that I had promised to take him to Guitar Center to peruse the guitars. Basically, he wants to do a little eye-candy shopping and some fantasizing of his own. But apparently, that’s not all…I’ve agreed to let him spend his money on a new guitar.

What? Wait? Huh? He doesn’t have enough money for that and I’m not footing the rest. Here’s the clincher…I know I would never agree to this! Only one problem, my oldest is backing him, arguing vehemently that I agreed, which is strange because they never agree on anything—ever. It’s like a secret brother law or something that Moms don’t get.

I remind him that we always have family conversations before a boatload of money is shelled out for anything. He reminds me where we were, what we were doing and the exact conversation when I agreed to the SNAFU. And somewhere along the way of the retelling I have an “A-ha!” moment because that was when my characters were getting naughty during a hostage situation.

Big freaking gulp!

Yep, you guessed it, hot-freaking-water! I can’t confess to a ten year old that I was thinking about risqué dialogue that ended up in sexual positions during our conversation. But I’m not agreeing to a new guitar because of my inattention!

So, maybe sometimes writers do spend too much time in their heads. But if we didn’t, readers wouldn’t have the fabulous stories that we keep spinning!

I invite you to come take a sensual ride with my 1NS book, Fairy Casanova, or a hellish ride with my Road to Hell series, both released by Decadent Publishing!

Thanks for joining me today!

Huggles,

Gracen Miller

Where you can stalk me—not really!—but I would love to meet and interact with you:

Facebook:  http://www.facebook.com/gracen.miller

Road to Hell series FB Fan Page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Road-to-Hell-series/112564408814796?ref=ts

Website:  www.gracen-miller.com

Blog: http://madisonroadtohell.blogspot.com/

Fairy Casanova Blurb:

Las Vegas lawyer, Sadie Sinclair, has hit rock bottom. Bankrupt, with her reputation ruined, and her fiancé is yachting Aruba with a hot babe. Desperate for a break from reality, she contacts 1NightStand and is shocked to discover she's been paired with a sexy fairy.  


Jace is about to become King of the fairies. One minor glitch, he's obsessed with humans. Before becoming King, he wants one night with a human before he's forever forbidden from crossing into the human realm.  After a stellar night of sex, Jace is surprised to discover Sadie isn't just a human, but his mate.  Complicating everything with the revelation, he's willing to forfeit his kingdom for her, but Sadie must decide if he's worth the biggest gamble yet.

Fairy Casanova Excerpt:

Knocking once to warn her of his arrival, he used the key card to let himself into the room. The door clicked shut behind him as he scanned the room for his evening’s companion.

“Hello,” she said when their eyes met.

Her sultry voice tempted him, much as a Siren lured a man to his demise against the rocky coast of her island. His mortal Siren offered him a shy wave.

“Want a drink?” She held up a goblet, half-full of amber liquor.

Her edginess socked his acute fairy senses like a blow to the gut.

Interesting. Why was she here then?

“No, thanks.” He moved toward her, intrigued by the competing vibes the woman evoked…reserved and salacious.

Maybe other men found the arctic chill of her gaze daunting. He found it intriguing, even challenging. Women would be envious and intimidated by her high-level eroticism.

Stunning, and nothing like the fairies he would command. Long, shiny, black hair framed her oval face. He couldn't wait to get his fingers in the wavy locks. Gunmetal-silver eyes warily watched him. Rimmed in a thin stripe of black eyeliner and splashed with a smidge of dark-gray shadow, the contrast brought out the stellar shade of her irises. High cheekbones, a slightly upturned nose, and wide lips, naturally dark red, or she'd been biting them in anxiety. Unlike the diminutive fairy-women, she was tall—not more than an inch or two shorter than his five-ten height. Most female fairies barely reached his chest, which made her a charming oddity. And she owned killer curves—again, unlike most beanpole-thin fairies—and those curves were framed in an evocative, skintight, black cocktail dress.

Jace stopped in front of her and stared at her mouth. He knew many places he wanted those lips, but mostly he wanted them rounded on an orgasmic scream.

“I'm Jace.”

She swallowed and cleared her throat, but her voice came out low and raspy. “Sadie.”

He dipped his finger into the crystal glass she held poised below her chin. A fat droplet of liquor clung to his forefinger, and he spread it across her pouty bottom lip. Her eyes widened, and her breathing noticeably accelerated. As if prompted, her tongue swiped away the moisture, and his cock twitched in reaction.

“You're perfect. Stunning.”

She laughed, a charming sound, as a blush crept across her cheeks. For the first time since beginning his adventure, he considered the horrible ramifications of falling hard for a human. Impossible! There wouldn't be enough time to grow attached to a one-night stand. Neither would his parents nor soon-to-be subjects approve.

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