Wednesday, March 16, 2011

What would happen if...

Here's your scenario for today:  If you need instructions, please look at the "Wednesday" tab in the left column.  Good luck and let's have some fun.....

What would happen if you met your favorite character from a book?

Note:  For all of you that read Erotica ~raising hand~ let's try to keep it clean LOL


  1. "Ah, my partner in crime." Odd said, looking up from his book; placing an undoubtedly cold coffee on the bench next to him.

    I smiled at the now-congealed mess of hot-dog and mustard that lie on the floor, unloved at his feet.

    This guy loved reading as much as I did.

    Plonking myself down next to him, I nudged an elbow into his ribs. "What's on the agenda for today then, Mr. Thomas?"

    He slid eyes that twinkled with mischief across in my direction, grinning.

    I sighed, shaking my head. "Shopping again by any chance?"

    He sprang to his feet, awkward and gangly, holding out a hand. "Oh yes, there's a sale on."

    I groaned, "Thomas, we don't need anymore stuff..."

    Odd flashed me his very best 'trust-me-I'm-Odd' smile, pulling me in the direction of the hospital entrance. "Saffi, dearest, you can never have enough souls."

  2. Since I'm very often drawn to the villains in books, it could be disasterous!

  3. @India, everybody loves a "bad boy" But I'm afraid what you'll want to do with him, so good idea not to share LOL

  4. My favorite character is a mass muscled Higlander that wears a kilt and carries a claymore. What I'd probably do is travel back to the future, snag an industrial sized fan and go back to let the wind blow...HARD. Always wanted to know what they wore under those kilts.

  5. Tom Ryan from Four Years from Home: Who are you?
    Me: I'm the guy that created you.
    Tom: You can't be. I'm the only god in my world and my parents also think I'm the devil, too. So who are you, really?
    Me: Do you remember that thing you called "parental radar?" How you would always get caught by your parents for those bad things you did? I did that."
    Tom: So you're the cops?
    Me: You don't understand.
    Tom: No, I understand. This is my book, go find your own.

  6. (Me and Dustfinger from the Inkworld series)

    Dustfinger: So what you're telling me is that this isn't the real world. That it's just another book that you've managed to step into and that I'm in fact in a book in a book? Well actually right now I'd just be in one book as I'm trying to get back into my book.

    Me: Um yeah..

    Dustfinger: Do I die in this book?

    Me: I don't want to tell you that!

    Dustfinger: Why not!? Everyone here has no problem telling me I die in Inkheart! I do die don't I? Bloody hell! I can't catch a break anywhere! What's with these authors, killing me off! What's with this author writing an author thing? Now I'm confused as to who really wrote me!

    I wanna tell Dustfinger that I agree completely with him but that would be answering his question that he didn't even really want answered in regards to Inkheart. I just bite my lip as he continues to rant, thinking to myself all the while that this could have gone better.

  7. There are two characters who have stayed with me over a lifetime. The fist is Beth from Little Women. (I named one of my duaghters after her!) If I met Beth, I'd hug her and tell her how much I admired her sweetness and courage and how I wished that more people were like her.

    The second character is Strider/Aragon from Lord of the Rings. Don't know what I'd do with him, but oh! I'd love to meet him! He has alwasy been the epitome of a true hero to me.

  8. 'How do you know that,' asked George Smiley suspiciously.
    'Well, you're not a tinker or a tailor. And as for soldier...'
    'So you decided that I must be a spy?'
    'No, not me. You creator's decided that,' I answered a little too defensively.
    Smiley harrumped, 'My creator, indeed. He's decommissioned me without as much as by your leave. Writers are fickle and ungrateful creatures.'
    'But, you see, Mr. Smiley, you simply went out of fashion, it's not his fault...'
    'Not his fault?!' Smiley groaned. 'Couldn't he have made me something more lasting? Like an undertaker or a policeman?'
    I thought I'd mention that little point to my Detective Inspector Simon Grant next time he decides to play me up. There are fates worse than his.

  9. Well, since my favorite character was a "rabid dog", I'm not so sure I would have wanted to meet him. I've recently read Take the Monkeys and Run by Karen Cantwell, and The Witness Wore Blood Bay by L.C. Evans, so I decided I do a little skit between Barbara Marr and Leigh McRae.

    Pulling up to the curb I switched off the sign, and opened the door. "You ladies need a ride?"
    "No, we just like to yell, Taxi in strange cities. But we're glad you stopped."
    She softened the sarcasm with a sweet smile, that had "fake" written all over it.
    Getting the two settled in the back seat I started the car. "So, ladies, where to?"
    "Just drive around for a while, but if you see a black limo make sure you let us know."
    I took a closer look. "Hey, aren't you Barbara Marr and Leigh McRae?"
    Barbara poked Leigh in the ribs. "Busted."
    Leigh poked her back. "See, I told you we should have worn shades."
    I grinned at the two in the rearview mirror. "This is so cool. So who's in the limo? There aren't any monkeys or crazed killers with guns are there? I've always wanted to be a detective."
    Leigh and Barb exchanged looks and giggled. It couldn't hurt to have a third partner in crime could it?
    "We're really not getting involved," Leigh quipped. "I promised Adam this would be a normal vacation."
    "Yeah, we just want to follow them for a little while. See where they're headed, that's all." Barb piped in. "We're not really sure they've done anything. I mean it could be their kid."
    Turning on the off-duty sign, I slapped my cap on top of blonde curls and pressed down on the gas. A possible kidnapping. This was gonna be so cool, and I was gonna be right in the midst of the action with Barb Marr and Leigh McRae.

  10. I'll be a little different as usual. I did meet my favorite Character. I met the model that plays my MC Angel. It was a pretty cool experience. And if you have seen the cover.. NO you can't have his number.. LOL!!!


  11. I couldn’t meet Roi without a time machine and some major spoilers for Homecoming. (There are some spoilers here, actually.) This is something that happened between Homecoming and the upcoming sequel, Tourist Trap.
    “Wow,” Xazhar said. “Wish I had a beamer. Wouldn’t that head make a great trophy?”
    Their guide—minder would be more like it, Roi thought—grimaced briefly. “Xazhar, for the tenth time, we do not leave any traces of ourselves behind. We do not interfere. We do not do anything to make the Humans alive now or in the future aware of our existence!”
    Roi grinned. He was enjoying this school field trip to Earth. Being an empath, he was one with the bison, feeling with them the shuddering earth beneath their feet, the scent of dust and dry grass, the vague alertness for wolves and bears. Humans, too, and those strange long-legged creatures that had begun to hunt with them. Horses, Roi thought. But most of the shaggy heads he sampled had no memory of those, and the horses had not been on this continent long enough to influence instinct.
    Xazhar was still sulking. “So who’d know? A bunch of savages? They don’t even know how to read and write!”
    “Ever hear of oral tradition, Xazhar?” Roi said.

  12. I love all the Moreno brothers but being that Angel's story was over fifteen years in the making I tend to favor him. Because I still feel guilty about the torment I put him through in Forever Mine I graciously agreed to let him roast me. Only he's too much of a sweetheart to do that so his sidekick the crude loud mouth Romero was more than eager to oblige.

    The audience applauds as Romero steps in front of mike looking a bit confused. He looks around. "Where's Elizabeth?"

    I wave my hand. What the heck I'm sitting in the middle of the stage. Romero's eyes open wide and he brings his fist to his mouth. He looks over at where Angel was sitting. "Holy crap. Me and Angel were just saying how Rosie O'Donnel let herself go. I didn't know that was you?'

    The audience laughs, while I grin so big I could almost feel my chapped lips split.

    "Seriously what are you wearing? Did lady Ga Ga have a yard sale and get rid of all stuff even she wouldn't wear?"

    More laughs. I casually look down at my sequined top and striped leather pants. Maybe I did over do it.

    "And whats up with that hair? Where on earth did you get the idea that would look good? Were you flippin the channels and come across a Planet of the Apes show and think hmmm now there's a look."

    I squirm a little as the audience roars fluffing my badly permed hair a bit but continue with my huge smile

    As the laughing dies down he continues. "Why are we even here? A horse crapping in a parade has a bigger following than Elizabeth."

    I fake some laughter even nod at the audience to show that I'm not upset.

    Romero turns back to the crowd. "Honestly I wanna say something from the heart. What do you call a woman who's written words that keep not just young adults but readers of all ages intrigued and unable to put her book down?"

    I sit up a little straighter chin up, now this is more like it.

    He speaks with even more conviction. "What do you call a woman who's inspired countless Indie writers to continue with their dreams and who watch and wait anxiously to see what she's going to next?"

    He turns to me and pauses. Awe what a sweetie. I wouldn't say countless. A few maybe.

    "You call that woman Amanda Hocking. You," He points at me. "Need to put another book out there. I'm sick of you plugging that one book. I just unfollowed you Twitter." He turns back to the audience. "Thanks you've been great."

    I stand and clap with everyone else as he walks off the stage. Just wait until I get to my computer. Romero's gettin hit by a bus!

  13. Gunnar dropped the ratchet and stood back.

    “You’re here.” His face, hard as granite while involved in the love of his work, softened as he stared at her.

    Dana nodded, swallowed. “It was so hard to let you go… I had to see you.”

    Gunnar moved forward with the lethal grace of a predatory cat. If she were more predatory he might be hers. Instead, she’d written him for someone else. Tessa was a wonderful woman, perfect for him, in fact.

    Dana knew she shouldn’t be here. It crossed so many lines —moral, fantasy, mental health… Yet she had to get out what she’d come to say. She had to move on with her life.

    She had so much to get off her chest, but when Gunnar slipped his arms around her waist, all cohesive thought melted in a sensual flood. Her words, still unspoken, slipped back down her throat.

    “This is wrong, Dana.”

    She nodded weakly.

    “But, God forgive me, I can’t help myself,” he said against her willing mouth.

    His lips were firm, hot, demanding. She knew what was coming, had written about it. She expected the heat, the shattering need, the raging desire. Why had she made him such a good kisser?

    Gunnar’s hands found their way under her shirt, discovering the smooth flesh beneath. He stroked her sides, and back with flagrant possession, with raw need.

    She knew the scenario too well. If she didn’t stop this soon it would be too late.

    She grasped his arms and levered away from him, dragging in one mind clearing breath before facing him.

    “I came here to tell you something.” He reached for her but she skirted around one of his finished motorcycles. “No, let me say this.”

    Gunnar raked a hand through his black hair. “I know what you’re going to say.”

    “You do?”

    He took a cautious step forward, met her gaze directly. “You love me, but I belong to someone else.”

    She nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.

    “But I want you to know I’ll always be yours. No matter what. Through reprints and screenplays and screenings, I’m still yours.”

    Dana cleared her throat. She had to speak. “Actually I came here to get some closure and tell you I wouldn’t be seeing you again. But spending this time with you makes me realize there has to be more.”

    “You mean sequel?” he asked, full of hope.

    Dana returned his broad smile and edged toward the door. “See you around.”