This is how it began. My sister Anna, a brilliant and witty writer, suggested that we should try to write a romance novel according to the guidelines published by Mills & Boon. Not as easy as it sounds, apparently. She created a finely judged opening paragraph and sent it to me. And, intoxicated by the stylistic possibilities that are simply not offered by my usual literary output of press releases on Bedfordshire’s latest social housing project, I have taken up the gauntlet. The idea is that we will take it in turns to develop the story, in full view of you, dear reader.

We are taking this project seriously, but I am already acutely aware that writing about simmering desire with one’s own sister might be possible only with tongue tentatively in cheek. We have agreed not to discuss our plot ideas, so the novel will unfold as unpredictably to us as to our readers. This could lead to trouble later on, but for now it seems a very liberating way to start.

Who knows where this project will take us? To the dizzying heights of publication by the world’s leading romance brand? Probably not. But wherever we end up, it should be fun getting there…

Wednesday 19 October 2011

Part 2 – My Romance debut

Well, here goes. It’s fairly obvious what he wants of her, and I must go from nought to sexy with no time to fine-tune my literary engine. I have never written any kind of love scene before, and realise that I am cringing at the thought of my parents reading this. Thankfully, they are unlikely to be exploring the u-bends of the blogosphere any time soon.


Part 2 (by Oliver)

He stood silent for a while, his eyes narrowing as they swept appraisingly across her swelling breasts and long legs, her hair moon-flecked against the gentle surf. Saying nothing, he bent swiftly and, with practised ease, found her lips with his own firm and forceful mouth.

Topaz gasped, her lips parting despite themselves, yielding to his searching tongue. She swayed slightly at the shock, the suddenness of it all, and his arm cradled her, steadyingly. And then she pulled away, pushing him with a purpose that was almost genuine.

‘How dare you?’ she hissed.

‘Because you are a beautiful woman, and I am your destiny,’ he replied. The voice was low and manly, shot through with arrogance and desire. ‘You will be mine.’

‘Never!’ Topaz turned and ran unsteadily towards the hotel.

Terence still stood watching and Topaz glanced up at him as she passed beneath the balcony. He looked even shorter from that angle, and paler in the moonlight, and Topaz found herself looking round for another glimpse of Cleft. There he stood, tall and rugged with the surf playing around his calves. Just watching her.

With a sigh, Topaz turned at walked slowly back to the hotel, to the man she was to marry the following week.
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