Recycling an Interview

Hey there,

I know. You heard from me on the 25th and here I am again. Well, don't worry, I won't stick around long. I've been stuck on this idea of interviews and it seems kinda silly not to show you all another character profile I created for a book that isn't in print yet.

Last January my book, In a Lover's Silence was selected as one of the eight finalists for the Romantic Times American Title V contest. It was eliminated in the first round (can't imagine why the readers weren't impressed by the first line of the book--"The threadbare gold carpet reeked of stale cigarettes, booze, and sex"--but they weren't.) Anyway, on Sylvia Day's blog I conducted an interview with the characters to see what they're doing 'now'.

Tell me what you think of it, please.


Getting Wynne Smith to stay still for more than five seconds is a task way beyond my capability, but I knew that when I knocked on her door. It became even more apparent when she whipped that same door open and invited—okay, let’s be honest, dragged—me inside.
She barely gave me time to start the tape recorder before plopping her ten-month old daughter in my lap and scooting into the kitchen to grab a sheet of cookies and sliding them into the oven. A second tin sat on a wire rack, cooling.

WS: So, not cool, Q, giving me a little girl.

I looked down at the infant in my lap and was at a loss for words. Wynne wasn’t.

WS: I mean really. Like the poor kid is going to have a moment’s piece with Mr. I-Have-To-Protect-My-Women, as her dad. Sheesh. Shilo will be forty before he’ll let her go on her first date.

Taking into consideration all the things Wynne had gone through with Seth, I could see what she was getting at. Looking first at the baby, then Wynne, I shrugged.

QR: Sorry.

WS: No big. I’ve gotten him to mellow a little bit. And he’s not freaking out at every squeak the munchkin makes, so I figure by the time she starts school, I’ll be able to let her out of the house without an armed escort. (She seemed to think for a second as she wiped down the granite countertop) Maybe.

QR: Other than my saddling you with a poor, put upon, little girl, (The baby in my lap gave a giggle making me wonder if she knew exactly what we were talking about.) How have things been going since…

WS: The move? (Wynne leaned on the counter, her long, honey colored hair pulled away from her face by a large barrette, and wrinkled her nose.) Okay so far. Seth’s family is a hoot, I think they take my side in arguments just to rile the poor guy.

QR: Do you worry about his job?

WS: Sometimes. But Evie has been a great relief and resource for me.

QR: How?

WS: Well, you know Del was a Texas Ranger? So, when I get pissy about Seth being out of town on an assignment or he has to escort particularly rough characters to court or prisons, I call her up and she reminds me how careful he is about everything.

QR: (I couldn’t help but smile at her discomfort, considering the things she’d done to Seth.) Don’t you think that’s adequate justice for that incident…

WS: Hush! (Shaking her head, she moved to pull two bottles of Dr Pepper from the refrigerator) It’s bad enough he’s constantly reminding me of that one little mistake…

QR: I wouldn’t call facing a serial killer a “little” anything…

One of the bottles was placed on the table in front of me. In deference to the Indian Summer heat, Wynne was dressed in a light green sundress. The skirt swished around her legs and her bare feet were silent on the tile floor as she crossed to the chair facing me. After curling into the seat, she rolled her eyes at me and shook her head.

WS: Seth tends to throw that up when he’s less than happy with me about something.

QR: Trouble in Paradise.

WS: (Her smile was wide and the chuckle held more than just humor) Oh hell no. That man is so worth the aggravation. I have to admit, you picked the right guy when you put Seth on my doorstep, Q.

QR: Glad I was able to help.

WS: (A wadded paper napkin was tossed at me.) Don’t be a wise acre.

QR: Hey, you only fought me tooth and nail over him…

WS: He’s from Texas. You know I don’t do Texas.

SV: Well, you have no problem doing this Texan, darlin’. (Seth Vassar's voice came from behind me, his approach had been silent.)

Twisting in my seat, I watched as Wynne's husband stepped into the kitchen as the oven buzzer sounded and Wynne bounced out of her seat. By the time she’d pulled the sheet of cookies from the oven, Seth had stopped by my seat to kiss his daughter on the top of her curly brown hair before moving into the kitchen.

WS: Well, you grew on me.

SV: But you still aren’t paying attention to locking the door.

WS: Like anyone is going to break in in the middle of the day. Besides, Q was here…

SV: Not good enough, baby.

Seth’s head dipped over Wynne’s his lips meeting hers in a soft kiss. Feeling the heat in my cheeks I turned my attention to the baby reaching for my soda. The sound of affectionate whispers were indecipherable, but having dealt with the attraction this couple had for one another, I knew it wouldn’t be long before…

SV: Miz Q?

QR: Yes? (I glanced toward the kitchen where Seth held Wynne in his arms, one hand stroking along her ribs.)

SV: Can I impose upon you to keep an eye on my girl while I talk to her mama?

QR: (I nodded) Sure.

WS: Seth? What…

SV: Come on, hon, we need to have a little discussion.

WS: (Glancing over her shoulder at me, Wynne rolled her eyes.) Did I say he was worth it? I think maybe I was wrong—