Now, let's welcome Charlene.
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RESEARCH
Ah research, a very important topic. Sometimes I love it; other times, I scream with frustration.
What exactly, is the definition or "research"? Webster’s Dictionary describes research as “Diligent inquiry or examination in seeking facts or principles”.
Research is one of the most vital aspects to any manuscript. It could make or break your plot, your characters, the very essence of your story.
Depending on the genre of your story, research can be very detailed and time consuming. Sometimes I find the amount of time I spend on research alone takes the fun out of writing, but it's a necessary evil, and the results are a manuscript with a richer and deeper level of description.
However, research can also have its drawbacks. For example, since the Internet's introduction, the amount of information available online has exploded. However, you have to be careful--is the information reliable? Just because it's on the 'Net doesn't mean that it's true. A writer must always double-check their resources.
And although it sounds almost primitive, especially to the younger generation, libraries still remain an invaluable source for information. It may not be instantaneous, but you can find a hell of a lot more stuff in there!
Research isn't limited to actual historical or present day facts, either. If a writer is working on a futuristic fantasy novel for example, then the research involved in making that futuristic world believable to the reader has got to be spot on. There's nothing worse than having your readers discover flaws in your hard earned research!
Now after doing all of this wonderful research, you have to ask yourself: "Do I use everything that I've discovered?" I should hope not! While research helps a writer nail down those pesky little details, it does not mean you get to use all of them. Why not, you ask? Because you don't want your story to end up sounding like a lecture. In Regency, it's one thing to tell me that a lady of the ton wore "a silk hat with ostrich feathers". But if a writer starts telling me how the feathers are stitched (or pinned, I don't know--RESEARCH!!) onto their hats, or how the hats are made (this is called Telling vs. Showing), then I'll start yawning, you've pulled me out of the story, and I don't want to read it anymore, no matter how much time and considerable effort you've put into it. There has to be a balance between "just enough" and "too much".
So remember, you can’t get away from research. You can’t ignore it; don’t use too much of it in your story, and get the right information. Because without it, we wouldn’t have stories!
Under Cover of Night
RCMP Lieutenant Emma Parris, a former jewel thief, loves nothing more than the thrill of the chase. And the international jewel smuggler known as “The Broker” proves to be fascinating prey. But she isn’t prepared for Gerard McIver, The Broker’s devilishly handsome right-hand man, whose boyish smile and hot, muscular body may prove too much for Emma’s sense of justice.
Gerard knows that Emma Parris is more than just an innocent, naïve tourist. But he’s torn between uncovering the truth, and uncovering Emma’s delectable body…
Excerpt:
As Emma started to dance, Gerard felt heat prickle his skin. She’s going to do a striptease, he thought in wonder. His cock swelled swiftly at the image, and he reached down to adjust himself.
“No touching.”
“But darling, I can’t—“
“I can stop if you can’t handle one simple rule.”
Gerard jerked his hands away. “I’m all yours.”
“Good.” She continued her dance, her hips swaying in time to the slow beat, her arms gently rising and falling. Now and again, she’d suggestively touch her body—rubbing her hands across her breasts, spanking her ass or using her finger to trace an outline around her pussy.
He sat transfixed as Emma sashayed across the floor, tempting him with peeks of smooth flesh as she flashed a shoulder here, her waist there. She would gaze at him coyly over her shoulder as she turned, or move so seductively close that he would unconsciously reach for her, only to grab air as she danced away, her laugh low and sexy.
Her shirt inched up, her stomach taut and the color of café au lait, and Gerard suddenly realized that he had never seen Emma completely naked.
With one smooth pull, she had the shirt off and tossed it to him. He caught it. He raised the material to his nose, inhaling her fresh scent, while he kept his gaze glued on the full breasts barely contained in the lacy coral bra, the nipples just peeking over the edge.
Emma moved towards him, her hands massaging over her globes, her fingers dipping into the generous cleavage. “Like what you see so far?” she asked.
Gerard tossed her shirt aside and lunged for her, but she jumped back, laughing. “Don’t be impatient,” she scolded, wagging her finger at him. “The best part is yet to come.”
“Fine,” he growled, sitting back. “Get on with it.”
“Hmm, someone’s grumpy.”
He deliberately let his eyes travel over her until she started to fidget under his intent stare. “I want my dessert.”
The sneakers came off next. By this time, the storm was in force, and Gerard rose to shut the windows against its onslaught. He tried to pass Emma, but she figured out his plan, keeping her distance until he returned to the sofa.
The sound of the rain pattering against the windows was a romantic counterpart to the music flowing from the radio and although his lust felt as sharp as a knife, Gerard managed to relax further into the sofa, watching as Emma hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her fitted pants. With slow, deliberate movements, she eased one side down, then the other, until the material pooled at her feet. She gracefully stepped out of them, kicking them aside, and allowing Gerard to fully appreciate the lush body that stood before him.
Her lingerie was a matched set, the color glowing against the candlelight. As she turned, he drew in a sharp breath, his hands clenching into tight sweaty fists. The panties were high-cut, only covering half of her tight ass as she wriggled.
“What do you think of my underwear?” she asked matter-of-factly. She actually twirled in front of him. “Do you like the color?”
“I—“ Gerard couldn’t speak. All he could think of was getting his hands on her, but it wasn’t going to be easy, if she had her way. “It’s very pretty,” he managed to say, sounding like an idiot.
But Emma seemed pleased. “I never get the chance to show off my girly things,” she said.
Gerard wanted to see all of her girly things.
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