CHARACTER INTERVIEW Amy Barrett  - The Wedding – Rainbow Falls

1.      Are you upset your name is not in the title?
 Not at all. I like the title.

2.      Is your love interest the way you pictured him or her? 
Or would you have preferred someone with a different hair color. He wasn’t exactly what I envisioned but then again I was actually looking for anyone. He kind off found me.

3.      Do you have any annoying habits your author did not share with us in your book?
 Yes I bite my nails. Shocking I know but I have been doing it all my life and it is a habit hard to break. I’m also not a fan of public toilets.

4.      Do you have siblings? Are you close to them? 
No siblings. Being an only child probably helped me to be the ambitious person I am today.

5.      Any hobbies we might be interested in knowing about? 
I love reading romance novels. 

6.      Are you happy with the profession your author chose for you or would you rather be working at something totally different and why? 
For as long as I can remember I always wanted to be a lawyer.

8.      Are you planning to make an appearance in a sequel? If not are you unhappy about that?

 Yes I appear in two more books – The Arrival and The Proposal and there is a rumour going around I may also be in a fourth.

9.      Is you’re hero/heroine a good kisser? 
Craig is a great kisser.

10.  Are you happy with the setting? Did you want a bigger house or car? 

I loved my little cottage it had everything I needed at the time but now I live at the ranch. I cannot imagine living anywhere else.

11.  How many re-writes did you have to live through? 

Far too many. And the more coffee she had the worse things become. It was a case of “lay off the coffee already.”

12.  Did your author listen to you when you tried to redirect her/him? 
No   

13.  Did your story end too soon?

 No but I am dying to find out what happens next.

14.  Who was your favorite supporting character?

 Apart from Craig I would have to pick Hannah she and I get on really well and have developed a real friendship.

15.  Do you expect your story to become a series with you as a recurring character? 

Yes I feel it has worked well as a series.

16.   Were you happy with your wardrobe? 

Yes I get to wear all the things I like.

17.  Did you fight much with your author or did you two see eye-to-eye? 

She never let me get a word in edgeways probably due to all that caffeine she consumed maybe she should stick to drinking tea.

Today's prompt is attitude. Look for it, if you can tear your eyes from the photo. :)



“My mother was a single parent. My father dropped out of my life so early I can barely remember him. I can almost remember his voice. Not what he looked like. My mother worked twelve, sometimes sixteen-hour shifts as a nurse. It was hard on her feet. Eventually, she got arthritis. I wanted to go somewhere with friends when I was eleven. My mother wouldn’t let me. My reaction consisted of stomping around the house and sighing loudly.”

The image of younger, much shorter Will throwing a hissy fit crowded out the idea of Clint lurking in the bushes. “Did it help?”

“No. I even peeked in the living room to see if my behavior moved my mom. Instead of looking sad, weeping tears of remorse, she rubbed her feet. When I saw the pain on her face, I realized how hard she worked. Did I ever say thank you? No, I threw a tantrum like a spoiled brat.”

“Ah, ha, I know what you did.” She loosened the death grip she had on her knees, allowing them to relax, unfolding in the direction of Will’s legs. “I bet you decided to rub her feet to show your appreciation.”

“That’s what I like about you. You’re always giving me altruistic motives.” He winked at her. Holding up his hands, he pointed his thumbs back at himself. “I was a kid, I wanted what I wanted. I saw an opportunity to go with my friends. That was my first foot rub attempt. It may have been more painful than pleasurable. A funny thing happened. We started talking as people, not mother and child. My goal was to take off with my friends, but my mother was telling me stuff I never knew about myself, my dad, and even her teenage life. I wanted to hear it. I discovered as long as I rubbed her feet she talked.”

“Hmm. Doesn’t sound as creepy as I thought. You must love your mother a great deal. Can’t say my mother and I have great conversations. Most are about how I’m disappointing her somehow. Mainly, she’s irked with me because I wouldn’t let her dictate my life since my father is no longer around for her to order around. You’re a good son. “She patted his hand, moving closer to him on the cushion.

 His lips twisted to one side, before answering. “I hope I was a good son. I would have made more of an effort if I knew she had cancer. Would have gone back to visit her more, instead of hanging out at the frat parties.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Felt the same way when my father died.” Awkward moment, she did what she did best in emotional moments. Move. She stood up and stretched. “I better go check on that laundry if I want clothes tomorrow.”

“You do that,” Will commented as he stood. “I’ll go finish the garage.”

Did he just say that? Tell her what he was going to do in her house. The kitchen door to the garage slammed indicating not only did he say that, but he did it too. Tonya placed her hands on her hips looking in the direction of the garage door. Her initial urge to tell him how it was propelled her a half step in the direction of the door. Wait; think about this, he’d organize her garage. A task she’d put off for months. It would leave her free to finish the laundry. Not a bad thing, but did he have to be so alpha about it?

Her hand went to the back of her neck, massaging out the stiffness. Alpha, huh, that might not be so bad. There were times Clint exhibited alpha traits, but it turned out to be selfish jerk moves. The results determined the trait. Her cell chimed as she moved to the washer. The phone vibrated across the counter as Tonya glared at it. Couldn’t be Will. Not too many people called her, outside her mother and Lynne. Could be news she won the lottery. Yeah, that would be nice.

She lifted the phone cautiously as if it might bite her. Lynne’s number flashed across the screen. “Yo,” she answered in a raspy voice.

“Give up, Tonya. I told you once you had a good Rocky imitation. I lied because we’re friends.”

She pressed a hand to her heart, even though her friend couldn’t see her. “You wound me!”

“Yeah, right. Your attitude took an upswing. I take it Will got your car going?”

“He did.” Her eyes cut to the garage door. His ears could be burning. Just in case, she walked into the living room but feeling visible from the outside, she moved down the hall to her bedroom.

“That’s not all he fixed, I assume. Did the good lawyer do some mood elevation too?”

 Ah, yes, she understood her meaning. “Really, Lynne, we just met. No, but he’s helping me with a huge issue I have.”

“You told him, but not me. What gives?” An edge of irritation flavored her friend’s tone.

Great, she’d have to tell Lynne. Somehow, Will thought it was best to tell. It would keep Clint from using the photos as leverage. It would also have more people alerted to any funny goings-on. Inhaling deeply, she explained the entire sordid story. She wasn’t sure how her friend would react.

 “Hmm, that’s it. I had some shots done for Marc. Posed topless on his motorcycle. I’m not sure there aren’t too many women who haven’t done a boudoir shoot or at least thought about doing it. The real question is why is he doing this crap now. You guys haven’t been together for over a year.”

“Yeah, you’re right. As you know, he dumped me to chase after another woman. Good chance that woman finally tired of him. Now, he’s doing his campaign of terror to chase me back to his arms. Will thinks he tampered with my car.”

Will stuck his head in the open doorway. “Garage is clean. I’m jumping in the shower, if you don’t mind.”

She shook her head, while covering the mouthpiece of the phone. Lynne’s voice rattled off questions before she even had the phone to her ear. “Yeah, he’s here. Yes, he did clean up the garage so I could get my car into it. I need to go now. See you at work.”

Lynne would probably harass Marc to call Will. Off-key singing mingled with running water. It was nice to have a man in the house. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. Correction: it was nice to have Will around.

Today is photo prompt today. We left off with Will massaging Tonya's feet.


Tonya giggled as she playfully batted at his hand. It wasn’t as if she wanted him to stop, far from it. Sebastian, who had been ignoring the two of them, glanced up at the window and growled, catching her attention and dampening her playfulness. Clint was out there, watching.

The two of them were so obvious in the front room, practically a reality show. Her knees pulled up to her chest, removing her feet from Will’s ministrations. It put her in the fetal position without the lying down or whimpering. Although, she did consider the whimpering, briefly. His confused gaze lifted to hers, but she pretended not to see the question in his eyes. “So, how did you really learn be such a great masseuse?” Goose bumps appeared as she considered an unseen watcher.

“A woman was the reason behind my skills. She was a queen too.” Will stretched his arm along the loveseat back, and angled his body toward her, moving into the area she’d recently deserted. “Queen of our household.”

“Oh, that was nice.” He massaged his mother’s feet. It looked as if she’d uncovered his secret ick factor, a mama’s boy. Good, she discovered it before making a fool out of herself. It also explained the lack of a current girlfriend. No one would meet mama’s standards.

His finger touched her nose. “You wrinkle your nose when you hear something you don’t like. Might as well say, that’s super creepy. Why don’t you listen to the whole story before making any snap judgments?”

Caught. Her skin heated under his scrutiny. A car door slammed outside, pulling her attention to the window, expecting to see a face pressed against the window. Nothing. The foot thing tended to be on the peculiar side, but she should hear him out. “Go on.”

Today's prompt is twenty. We join Will & Tonya cleaning out the garage.



“A man in your profession probably sees women at their worst, all sneaky, and determined to strip the man of everything he has. Ranting about ruining the man in every way they can. Knowing what you know, about how vicious the gender can be,” her mouth finally stopped in mid-sentence. Did she actually say all of that? Using the heel of her hand, she hit her forehead. The offending pot grabbed her attention because she couldn’t even meet Will’s gaze. It would either be full of contempt or a suspicion that she was one of those women who turn on a man like a coiled cobra.

“Hey, don’t do that, “the shouted warning came too late.

Her foot connected with the pot before she even considered the fact she was barefoot. “Ow, damn it to hell and back and twice around the bank.”

    His shadow fell across her as he bent to sweep her into her arms. Tonya hooked one arm around his neck snuggling into his shoulder. Her cheek nestled against his shoulder allowing her to breathe in his scent, a combination of fading cologne, a whisper of dryer sheet from the t-shirt, a sharp note of sweat, mixed with a muskiness that identified the man. Ah, an aroma she could grow use to. Will worked his way through the maze of boxes, into the kitchen, and carried her into the living room. He backed up to the loveseat and collapsed onto it, holding her tight in his arms.

“Pretty inventive cursing out in the garage. Can’t say I ever heard that before.” He chuckled as he eased her onto the loveseat.

“Yeah, my paternal grandfather, Leonard majored in cursing. My grandma usually caught him at the first damn, so he had to improvise after that. He also had to put quarters in a cursing jar.  One time he just shoved a twenty in it before he let loose, but grandma rushed me out of the room.” His close embrace, as he carried her,  made her forget about her hurt toe. She couldn’t remember anyone carrying her. Made her feel all ultra-feminine. True, she was no lightweight, which might explain one reason she never received the delicate flower treatment. Then again, maybe she never dated the right kind of man. Her big toe took the major brunt of the collision. It throbbed reminding her of the fact.

A closer foot inspection required resting her ankle on her opposite knee. Hard to tell if any bruising occurred with the dark purple nail polish. The reddened skin around the nail didn’t reassure her. Will wrapped his hand around her foot with his thumb on her instep. “Wiggle your toes.”

She did. Ached a little, but still moved. No immediate care visit, but flats for a few days at least. The thumb resting on her instep moved in an oval pattern. “Will, what are you doing?”

“Must be doing it wrong, if you don’t know. Go ahead, and put both feet in my lap.”

Only one foot was bruised; she almost pointed out the fact, but didn’t. Instead, she decided to wait and see what he’d do next. The heat from his palms warmed her foot as he massaged it.

“Oh, that feels great,” she moaned the words as she pushed back into the couch. “I pay for pedicures just to get the foot massage, but they’re not this good.” Her eyelids fluttered shut as she relished the experience. “You’re, ah, too good.”

His throaty laughter caused her to open her eyes a sliver, catching a satisfied smirk on his face. Go ahead and grin, as long as you keep those magic fingers on me. As if hearing her unspoken command, he continued to massage her feet, taking special care with her big toe.

It felt so good after the day she had. Of course, there was no practical reason for him to be massaging her feet. The hell with practical. “Where did you learn to massage feet so well?”

“Well, would you believe I was a slave boy to a powerful foreign queen?” he teased. She could hear the smile in his voice.

Opening her eyes, she met his gaze and tried for a stern one of her own. “I don’t believe any woman, queen or not, would ever let you go with those hands.”

“Oh, is that so?” He winked as he smoothed one hand up her calf under her yoga pants. 

Sebastian slept under the table, giving the occasional twitch and growl as he chased imaginary rabbits or dream bones that sprouted legs. Knowing her dog more likely the later. Will stood, pulling her up with him.

Still holding her one hand, he reached for the other one. “Look at me.”

 Her eyes moved up to look into his hazel eyes. His serious expression related what she knew he was going to say. No help with the garage and no tangling their legs together as they slid across the sheets.

“Do you think I’d walk out on you because a psycho stalker targeted you?”

Yes, would be the correct answer, but she hesitated. Was this a trick question? “It would be the smart thing to do.” 

His hands tightened around hers. “No, it would be the cowardly thing to do. Women who don’t run screaming from me when they discover what I do are rare. Besides, there’s a connection between the two of us. Maybe you could use a smart lawyer on your side. Your ex may know how to break and enter, but I can nail him for it.”

The prospect of retribution tempted. Her eyes fluttered close as she inhaled. The low hum of the fridge along with the occasional slumber growl from Sebastian filled the waiting pause. She wanted to believe so bad. Her eyes opened to his waiting gaze. An answer, he expected one. The selfish part of her wanted him to stay, not even walk out the door tonight. Still. “You could get hurt. I don’t want you to be a target.”

 He lowered his forehead to the top of her head. “Don’t worry about me. I’m a big boy. Even know a few moves that could put a hurting on a stalker.” His toned physique did make her wonder what he did in his leisure time. Even in previous relationships, she was alone when it came to dealing with personal issues. Could she trust him? Often people told you what you wanted to hear, made promises they had no intentions in keeping.

Will’s forehead stayed on hers as he spoke. His words danced across her face before being absorbed into her skin. “I can feel the wheels whirling in your head. Try trusting someone for a change. Let me help. You’ll be doing me a favor.”

Michelle pointed out earlier today that she needed to let people help her. At the time, she thought her co-worker was referring to herself. Her failure to trust anyone was wearing her out. “Okay,” she said the word softly but knew he heard when he pulled her closer for a sweet kiss. Unlike the heat and urgency of the night before, this kiss sealed an unspoken agreement. There was a promise in it. The message passed through her warming and healing her frayed nerves. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but an epiphany that everything would work out crystallized. The kiss ended much too soon.

 Her right hand stroked his cheek. The beard shadow provided friction, slowing her fingers as she moved them across his temple into his hair. “What should I do first?”

 He reached for her wandering hand and kissed her palm before closing it. “We have to make plans for the worst case scenario.”

 Oh yay. Not what she wanted to think about, but his idea had merit. “Yeah,” she sighed heavily, “You’re right.”