Victoria Smith of Confessions of a Twenty Something Fiction Writer and Jaycee DeLorenzo are co-hosting the Oh, My Hero! Blog Hop!
On April 27th, post a picture of your hero with a character interview that has at least 5 questions. You can check out the sample questions, or come up with your own, since you know your hero best and what you'd like to reveal about him.
So without further ado...
A young looking man walks in, steps to the side of his chair, and bows in the most royal of ways. “Hello, I’m Terrick.”
The breath I exhale catches in my throat. “Hi! Thank you for coming in to speak with me.”
“So, uh, let’s get started, shall we?” His eyes beam a blue so translucent it’s literally breathtaking. He sits in the overstuffed chair, legs spaced evenly apart. Feet planted firmly on the hard wood floors. His long leather duster fits loosely enough to know he’s comfortable but tightly enough to show his muscular structure. His ripped jeans and faded v-neck tee makes my pink parts throb. His lips are full and pouty, almost fixating. If I stare any longer I might have to get up and feel them caress my own just to prove to myself that they’re real.
“Are you ok?” His velvety voice pulls me from my rapture.
“Oh, yes, sorry.” Really, I’m a professional. Pull yourself together woman. Readjusting in my seat, I reach for my note cards sitting on the side table. I can’t tell if it’s me or these damn lights, but I’m sweating like I’ve had a seven hour session with him.
“Let’s start with something easy. How would you describe yourself in one word?”
“Intricate.” A small sign of life plays in the corner of his lips.
My heart flutters. “I bet you are. How would you define your perfect love interest?”
A tap, tap, tap comes from his fingers on the faux leather chair. “Strong,” he pauses, “she needs to know how to harness her powers.”
“Her … powers?”
“Do you know anything of Scandinavian Folklore?” He retorts.
“Uh mmm, no.”
“Then let’s move on.” His hand flicks at the air annoyed with my ignorance no doubt.
“Ok,” I stumble through my cards trying to find some fun questions. “How about – what’s your favorite movie?”
Snickers escape his lips no doubt laughing at my naive question. “I have several but my top two favorites would be Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings but not because they are brilliant but because they are ridiculous.”
“Really? I love those two. May I ask why?”
Terrick stands, bringing heart palpitations with every step he takes closer to me. “Don’t you think the passion between the characters should be stronger?” He asks still coming towards me, “Don’t you wanna feel the sparks of chemistry flow through your blood and experience what they are?”
I nod, noticing his chair trailing behind him like he’s its master.
He stops, leaning down so close I can feel his breath on my face, placing each one of his hands on the arms of my own chair. “Maybe you and I can answer that at a different time,” he proposed.
Straightening out, he grabs both sides of his duster, and fans them so each side spreads out before me then quickly, yet gracefully, falls into his chair again. “Do you have any more questions?”
“Sure,” I slur. “I hear an accent in your voice. Can I ask where you’re from?”
“Now you’re talking. I hail from Sweden.” A big smile spreads across his face.
“Sweden? I bet it’s so cool there.” Relaxation finally.
“The – people there are very special to say the least.” His eye flutters into a wink.
I must have missed something. “Do you prefer cold weather or hot?”
“Lukewarm. I’m quite fond of the water and prefer it to be lukewarm.”
“Are you a surfer then?”
“No, I just love to be surrounded by water all the time. Waterfalls, lakes, ponds, oceans, It’s all home to me.”
“Do you believe in wa –”
“Terrick,” a low voice interrupts from the back of the room. Standing by the door was an equally gorgeous man whose looks were very similar to Terrick’s.
“This is my brother Cain.”
“Oh,” was all I could manage.
“You’ve been summoned. They need to speak to you down at the counsel.”
Terrick stands. “Sorry but I must go. It was a pleasure answering your questions. Hope you got what you needed?”
My heart fell silent. “Don’t worry about it. I can manage with what I got.”
He walked away leaving me with faded kisses on my cheek and enough emotion to make a thousand army men happy.
My feet slowly sauntered the rest of my lifeless body into my make-up room. On my chair was a note:
Crap! I need a translator stat!
What's your hero like? Is he the strong and silent type? The wounded bad boy? A man on a mission, not looking for love, but captivated by your heroine? Whoever he is, we're sure he's swoonworthy, and we want to learn more about him!