Harlie loves debut authors and this one is extra special because Jess Hunter is the brother of beloved author Sable Hunter. 🙂 Plus, there are 2 copies of the book to be given away, too. Just leave a comment and email. Good Luck!
Take it away Jess…
MEET JESS HUNTER – HIS NEW NOVEL – FOR A HERO RELEASED APRIL 15th WITH SABLE HUNTER
Right after “For A Hero” went live on Amazon, I was nervous about the critiques I would receive. I wanted to find someone that was not a friend, family, or member of our community to read it and give me an honest, objective review complete with constructive notes on how I could improve the work. I figured I would be able to make some changes and re-upload it before too many people saw the first child of my Author’s brain.
Little did I know, the person I picked, although helpful, was not the best person for the job.
A little background before I begin:
I wasn’t always excited about the idea of writing an erotic romance novel. It isn’t my favorite type of book to read, and I wasn’t exactly comfortable about creating one myself. I had no problem with the genre; I simply had no interest or investment beside Sable and her work.
She and I spent many nights discussing it. We talked about romance, concepts of love and predestination, the dependence, or illusion of dependence, on titillation as a literary tool, and a thousand other ideas along the way. She, obviously, convinced me that I should try it and “For A Hero” was the result, plus, of course, all of the flair and voice that she added.
Fast-forward to the release of the book and I found myself soliciting this sweet lady to give it a try and give me her honest opinion. She is a wonderful woman. She has a powerful spirit, a powerful voice, and powerful perspectives. In other words, if you are not comfortable with complete, uncompromising honesty, don’t say hello to her. I’m sure she would be ok with me saying that…
It was a week or two before I got word that she had finished it and had some thoughts to give me. The messenger chuckled under his breath. He knew that I would be getting an earful when I got a hold of her.
I called her immediately and did my best to hide any apprehension as I asked, “What do you think?”
Her answer didn’t shock me. I wasn’t surprised. I was distracted however, as the sum total of her review was about two hours long.
Some of her suggestions were wonderful. I will definitely apply them to the sequel. (which is currently being written as we speak) But most of them were a commentary on the genre.
She told me she was uncomfortable with the sex. She said it was too graphic and didn’t leave enough to the imagination. She said that many of the character’s decisions were ‘unrealistic’ or ‘unfortunately predictable.’ She elaborated that someone like David wouldn’t call Jenna ‘Honey’ or ‘Baby.’ She said it was too unbelievable. She said that David and Jenna both were each completely different people, their own character, and the person whom the other created when they fell in love. Her biggest criticism of mine, and the comment that inspired me to write to you today, was that it was too idyllic. It was too perfect. People don’t really love each other like that. People don’t change that dramatically when they meet someone. She said there was no real-world example of this kind of relationship and on the next go-round, should make it more realistic.
I didn’t say much to her about it. I truly was grateful for her opinion. I asked for it and knew what I was getting myself into when I instigated the interaction. I thanked her, assured her that I would use her feedback to better my work and then I said goodbye.
But let me say something to you, and to all readers. This book DOES seem unrealistic, as ALL great romance books should, because when you really, truly fall in love, when you lose yourself in rapturous enamoration with another wonderful human being, when your heart melts at the sight of your lover, it is THE MOST UNBELIEVABLE FEELING IN THE WHOLE WORLD.
Every single person who writes in this genre, and all the ones who enjoy reading it avidly, seek out that unbelievability.
We want to fall in love. We want to get swept off our feet. We want to look into someone’s eyes and forget our own name. That is the point.
We want to change for someone. We want someone to change for us. That is the point.
We want to call someone ‘Baby;’ we want someone to call us ‘Honey.’ That is the point.
We want to discover a passion, a fire, a tenderness deep down inside us, that we never knew was there, but only answered to the perfect person. That is the point.
Sable does a great job giving her readers that feeling. She makes their hearts grow, break, mend and swell back again. She gives them hope that the feeling she gives them is out there in the world for them somewhere. She fosters happiness and kindness and joy and sex and love and all the great things in the world.
I can only try to do the same.
To make the theme of this message abundantly clear, my book, as well as Sable’s universe of literature, IS unbelievable. We will refuse to apologize for it. It is a fiction that is created in order to cause a feeling that you don’t feel every day. David will say things that most men don’t say. The McCoys will do things that most men don’t do. They are not most men. They are heroes. They are angels. They are the kinds of men that you deserve, not the kinds that surround you.
Now, I have fallen in love with this genre. Sable was right all along. This work gives people joy and comfort when they need it, and excitement and intrigue when they don’t. I will write many books that are not erotic romance stories, but I will continue to write novels like this also. It makes me feel wonderful that a few people in the world feel comforted, loved or happy because of a few words I had to say.
I love you all. Feel free to email me and say hello at email@example.com
Try my new book out: http://www.amazon.com/For-A-Hero-ebook/dp/B00CDAXAN4/ref=cm_cr_pr_product_top
DAVID at the Fantasy Date Auction – Hottest Fire Chief on Record – FOR A HERO
David shook his ass around. ‘This isn’t too bad,’ he thought. ‘I can do this.’ A silver pole stood erect on the stage. ‘That Blaine has got one terrible sense of humor. Oh well, if that’s what the ladies want.’
David strutted over to the pole. He put one hand on it, gripped it and flexed his arm. The crowd went wild. He turned. His other arm wrapped the pole. He tightened the muscles in his back and pulled himself up. He climbed up a few feet and took his feet off of the pole. He pushed himself up horizontal on the pole, hanging on and supporting himself with just his hands. ‘I could get used to this.’ He sealed his grip on the pole and walked himself down. The building was about to explode with applause.
His friend’s voice boomed over the room. “What a grade-A, prime cut of American beef, Ladies and Gentlemen. How much will it cost you to go on a fantasy date with this stud?” Blaine walked out on the stage. The music stopped. What a contrast stood up there in front of all those people. David, shirtless in flame-retardant pants and a fireman’s hat, and Blaine, elegantly clad in a tailored Italian suit.
“Flex for us, Chief.” Blaine knew that David hated to do that. “Show us those cannons.” On the inside, David groaned; on the outside, he put on a rugged face and did as he was told. His bicep exploded out of his shoulder. Blaine walked over and tried to put his palm around it. He couldn’t even come close. “How safe would you feel in these arms, Ladies?” The noise was deafening.
Blaine signaled to David. David thought ‘This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.’ He ripped his pants off, showcasing the little thong he bought with Blaine. It was bright red with a little fireman’s hat shape right on the crotch. The ladies seemed to like that; one woman groaned and another one swooned.
“We usually start the bidding at one thousand dollars. But this is our main course, our plat de résistance. It would be downright criminal to let you steal this prize for such a price. I think five thousand dollars sounds fair. Who will give me five thousand dollars?”
Sara raised her placard. ‘That’s my girl,’ David thought.
“We have five, now six? Anybody give six thousand dollars?”
An elderly lady in the front signaled.
‘Oh God be with me.’ David muttered to himself.
“Six thousand dollars, Folks. Who will give seven?”
‘Sara, please Sara.’ David hoped and prayed and wished.
“I have seven thousand dollars from the gentleman in the back.” Blaine stated with a snicker.
‘Oh Jesus Christ, Sara.’
“Eight thousand from Miss DuPont. Thank you, Ma’am” Blaine worked the crowd a little bit.
David tried to focus his eyes; he tried to look out into the crowd to see Sara. ‘This has got to be a joke. Blaine put her up to this, but she will swoop in and buy me. I know it.’ He strains. There she is. She caught his eyes. He looked distraught. She shrugged her shoulders.
“Nine thousand dollars from the gentleman in the back again, thank you for your tenacity, Sir.” Blaine gives David a conciliatory pat on the shoulder. “I have nine thousand, which one of you lucky ladies, err, I mean benefactors,” to bother David, “will be tripping the light fantastic with our David. He is a hero, remember? Can I get ten thousand dollars?”
Just as Miss DuPont is about to raise her placard again, a little voice barely made itself known over the crowd. David and Blaine perk up their ears. “What’s that?” Blaine asks.
They look out to see a woman, dressed in a black evening gown, standing in the middle of the convention area. All the people at her table were whispering and pointing at her.
Blaine hopped off the stage, walked up to her, put his arm around her dramatically and asked. “Say one more time, please, Ma’am,” and places the microphone in front of her lips.
Jenna takes a gulp and says “fifteen thousand dollars.”