An Interview with Lynn Shurr

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I was born a left-handed middle child, bookended by two sisters. That should tell you a lot already. In the small Pennsylvania Dutch area town where I grew up, everything worth going to could be reached by bicycle: school, a nearby stable, the Legion ball park, and the one-room library in the Fire Hall where I’d read most of the books by age twelve. My own literary ambitions began in the fifth grade when I wrote, directed, produced, and starred in a puppet show which went on a tour of all the elementary classes in our old-timey red brick schoolhouse and got me out of several afternoons of class. Immediately, I saw the merits of a literary career. 

Why did you start fiction writing and what genre do you like to write?

I have to say I started writing fiction and poetry in grade school with my first big achievement being a puppet show I wrote, produced, and starred in which went on tour of the lower grades. I got out of a lot class time and was immediately hooked on writing. After that I contributed to school literary magazines, took accelerated English classes, majored in English Lit in college--and then got an M.A. in librarianship because I realized even then that few writers make much money. Thirty years later, I retired from being a library director and finally had time to write just for pleasure. E-publishing was just beginning to grow. I chose to write contemporary romance because I had heard it was easiest to break into since demand was high, but I'd read my share of romance before starting, enjoying the likes of Nora Roberts and Jayne Ann Krentz among many others .I got my chance to see my work in print and as e-books with several small e-presses, some now long gone, but all of my books are still in print having been picked up by other publishers.

Why this genre? What attracts you to them?

When I was a librarian I had a very elderly patron who checked out stacks and stacks of Avalon romances. I asked her why so many. She answered, "Honey, at my age, all you want is a happy ending." Romance always has a happy ending which we need so badly in today's world. Over the course of the story, a couple must overcome each obstacle that falls in their way in order to get to the HEA (Happily Ever After). While my books are full length novels (25 to date) and far more complex than an Avalon romance, I make sure my characters reach their goal in the end which should leave the reader smiling or crying happy tears.

Generally speaking, what is the driving force behind your characters behind your characters? Have any of your characters changed in a dramatic way from what you imagined at the start of the writing process?

Since I always know my beginning, middle, and end before I start to write, I do know how my characters will change during the story. A character who shows no growth, no change, is just a flat cardboard cutout. I've found without at first realizing it that most of my stories are about second chances, a life do-over that will eventually make them happier. In A Place Apart, a wounded warrior with a bad case of PTSD has become a hermit on a deserted island off the coast of Maine because he feels he cannot be with other people. A young socialite who has trashed her reputation also wants solitude on the island. Not nearly so shallow as she first seems, she takes on Jake and all his problems in order for them to exist together. Sparks fly! In Lady Flora's Rescue, the first of an historical series, a young widow is determined to marry her choice of a spouse the second time around, even if she must follow him into the Ohio Wilderness of the eighteenth century to get the man she desires. My characters often have help from friends and family. Sometimes, I have to be careful that these secondary characters don't take over. They must wait for their own stories.


What do you find the most difficult in finishing a story and approximately how long does it take for you to write a story?

For a contemporary novel, I usually need three or four months to complete one. An historical novel due to all the research involved may take six to nine months to complete, and I will still be looking up period details as I write. My greatest difficulty is saying goodbye to characters I have come love. Even when I've written the last page, they continue to have lives in my imagination. I know how many children they will have and what careers they will pursue, etc. In Blessings and Curses, a spin off from A Taste of Bayou Water, I was able to develop the entire life of a secondary character from first meeting to very married with children. I rarely get a chance to do that. I've been told the romance ends with marriage--but it shouldn't.

Are there other types of writing you do such as non-fiction, or short fiction?

I've written a number of short stories that I call my Twilight Zone tales. Only one is a romance, and only one has ever been published in an anthology that is now out of print. Someday, I'd like to do a collection of them, but just don't have the time at the moment.

Has your writing affected you in any way and what would you recommend to someone wanting to start writing fiction?

Writing for publication takes discipline, dedication, and perseverance. I had to learn the last especially. Rejections easily crushed me, but I kept on until I was good enough to be published. I write every day for about four hours. If I can do 1,000 words a day, great. In three months, I will have a 90,000 novel. Even now, I keep learning how to do better with each book. Anyone starting out will have to apply all three to their lives. You write when you don't feel well or are down or would rather be somewhere else to get the job done. Though I have found creating a story sometimes takes a person away from their problems for a while. I think many would-be authors have no idea how grueling the publishing process is. Writing the book is the easy part. In the end, most will find out they earn very little for their efforts. A writer must write because they love to do it. Otherwise, they will soon quit. But if a person has a story to tell, it needs to come out. Good luck to all who travel this rocky road.

Blessings And Curses

By Lynn Shurr

Contemporary Romance

Cover art by Trisha FitzGerald

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Adrienne and Pete—is their love real or are they the victims of an old traitor’s love potion? Are they truly attracted to each other or have they been cursed to marry and be blessed with seven children? Only time will tell as they fulfill a prophecy during their tempestuous courtship and marriage.

Excerpt:

Adrienne put the finishing touches on her cheap but high-class hooker look by six-thirty Saturday night. She checked the details in the mirror fastened to the back of her bathroom door. Bless the leather store in the mall as the clerk had blessed Miss Stone when she handed over her credit card. Her outfit, not all leather, but mostly, started with the knee-high boots possessing four-inch, chunky heels. She’d considered stilettos, but figured the heavy soles would be better for kicking or running if necessary. Pete would have to live with the fact that she would be inches taller than him

Then came a bare space up her thighs to the leather mini-skirt. It barely covered her ass and her assets as it hung low on her hip bones. Underneath, she wore a black thong. She was not sure how far the disguise had to go, but remembered reading about infiltrators sent into Nazi France with real French underwear in case they were caught and interrogated.

In her navel, she placed a clip-on ring. She hadn’t been aware that navel rings came as clip-ons until she stood at the Piercing Place debating options for deep cover operations. The clerk noticed Adrienne’s hesitation and suggested the fake. In gratitude, she purchased a temporary tattoo as well, a black butterfly that fluttered below her collar bone and flew inches above a red spandex top that girdled her breasts and boasted triangular cutouts on either side.

Adrienne peered closely at herself. Her pregnancy nipples were enormous and showed very clearly under the spandex as if shouting out this woman wore no bra. She quickly threw on the black leather jacket glittering with studs. The air would be chilly near the water in January and only make nipple matters worse. Surely, she looked cheap enough.

Her makeup provided the finishing touch with a swath of deep blue eye shadow over each lid, heavily penciled brows, lashes caked with mascara, densely blushed cheeks, and scarlet lipstick stroked on and outlined slightly above her rather narrow lips. She had pulled her long, straight hair to the top of her head, knotted it, and let the rest cascade down her back. A filigreed gold-colored clip decorated the base of the knot and matched dangling earrings also purchased at the Piercing Place. With luck, they wouldn’t turn her ears green.

She added the final detail, a wad of bubble gum. She never chewed gum, having been lectured since childhood on its tooth destroying properties and the cow-like resemblance it gave a person. Now, she began softening the pink block in her mouth. She wanted to try a few bubbles before Pete came. She made a little pocket in the gum with her tongue and blew into it. Pop! The doorbell rang as she started on another bubble. Trying to practice a long-legged, sexy stride, she clomped to the door.

Pop! Pete’s eyes widened. “A little too heavy on the makeup for my tastes, but Stoney, you are hot. I would definitely shove one-hundred bucks down your cleavage to spend an hour in your company. If Jon ever fires you, I know a place in New Orleans would take you in a minute. Mon Dieu, Crazy Pierre would rather stay in tonight!”

Adrienne pushed the gum into a corner of her mouth, making a great show out of using her tongue to do so. “We’re a little late. Let’s go.”

She led the way to Pete’s old truck with its fine patina of rust and let him lift her up into the seat as he had done once before after their night on the houseboat. His hands moved over her breasts beneath the jacket as he released her, and he laid his unshaven face on her thigh for a moment. She ran her fingers through his hair down to the ponytail. He looked up at her with his great dark eyes. “I’m not a liar, Stoney.”

She didn’t reply, merely formed another bubble and let it pop.

He turned away and made a request. “Stoney, give me a big ole kick in the rear with those boots.” She obliged him.

“Thanks, the pain will help me concentrate on what I have to do tonight instead of what I want to do.” He got into the driver’s seat and headed into the night.

A Taste of Bayou Water

By Lynn Shurr
Contemporary Romance, 395 pages
Cover art by Trisha FitzGerald

Blurb:
Billionaire Jonathan Hartz arrives in Louisiana seeking a place for his new business but finds Celine Landry. His personal assistant and her brother object to the match and form an alliance to keep the lovers apart. Hartz is undaunted. He will win his lady even if it means becoming Cajun.

Excerpt:
As they danced in the moonlight, Jonathan kissed Celine's brow, her cheek, lifted her hair again and kissed the back of her neck. He slid his hands down her back and cupped her buttocks mimicking her brother with Miss Stone during the last dance.

He worried that she could feel his urgent need through the snugness of her dress, but she responded to it as if she had her own long suppressed desires by pressing her pelvis closer to his. She kissed him on the lips using teeth and tongue, and he returned both with pleasure. The thud of the gangplank being thrown to the deck startled the lovers, and they jumped apart, then laughed at themselves for being so absorbed in each other.

Jonathan led her to the captain's cabin, closed the door, and turned her around in the celestial light to lift her heavy hair and untie the straps around Celine's neck. Loosening the straps got him no closer to seeing this lovely woman naked. Boggled by a dress that seemed to have a will of its own, he tugged and pulled while planting small kisses on her spine until at last, the gown peeled off. He was so out of practice.

Hartz placed two fingers in the strings of the midnight black thong, discarded it, and then turned to his own wardrobe, scuffing off the expensive Italian shoes and fumbling with his buttons and zipper. He'd hoped Celine would turn and undress him, but she'd vanished under the captain's quilt.

With the quilt drawn up to her chin, Celine peeked out from the blanket, her dark eyes wide and unsure. Hartz made an executive decision to leave his briefs on even though they weren't hiding much at this point and to stay in his undershirt because of the scar some women found repellant. He slipped into the box bed beside Celine.

"I haven't done this very often," she confessed, staring up at the beams of the cabin. "Just with Jack in his van. I tried one other time, but it didn't work out."

"So, you could say you are almost a virgin."

"If there is such a thing."

"No problem. I've had instruction from the best."

"Who's the best? Miss Stone?"

"Lord, no! When your little boy turned four, I was still a virgin, a virgin with a college degree and millions of dollars, so I went to Vegas. They had a place back then called The Ranch. All the women lined up, and you took your pick. Some wore harem costumes, some were in see-through nighties, some had on bustiers and spiked heels. The madam offered every size and color of woman a man could want, and they were all gorgeous. I asked for one who could show me what to do. I got Lorraine, though she called herself Lola back then."

As Hartz told his story, he smoothed Celine's body with his hands, turned her over and rubbed her back in a soothing circular motion. "I went back every night for a week, and then I asked Lola to come to Seattle with me and be my mistress as I still had a lot to learn."

He could feel her beginning to relax under his hands as he quietly told his story. "She did. She had a child to support, kept her in a private school. That's why she was in the business. Sweet Lorraine. We stayed together for nine years. She was my age now when we first met. When she turned forty and her daughter graduated from college, she told me the time had come for both of us to move on. 'Jon', she said, 'find yourself a young woman to love and give you a family.' I've been looking ever since."

He turned Celine toward him. She reached up, took off his undershirt and touched the scar on his chest. The thin red line started just below his collarbone. Then it thickened and widened in the center of his chest and puckered as it narrowed again.

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

"No. It itches sometimes."

Pleased that she touched him rather than turning her head or pretending not to notice as most women did, he rejoiced that she was not like the others. Even though he could feel only the pressure of her fingers through the thick tissue as they traced the incision's length and not the warmth of her hand, the heart beneath the scar beat harder.

He began to make love to her again, kissing the tops of her breasts and working downwards from nipples to toes. Coming back up as if returning from a long voyage, he found her wet and pliant.
Eyes closed and breathing in small pants, she uttered only one word, "Condom." She'd evidently learned her lesson at the age of seventeen.

He groped in his pants pocket where he had placed three condoms handily purchased in the Bayou Belle's men's room. "Let's see, I have bold gold, passionate purple, and neon orange. What's your pleasure?"

"Any, any at all."