Rylee fell out of that damn storage closet and into my life. Now I don’t think I’ll ever be the same. She’s seen glimpses of the darkness within me, and yet she’s still here. Still fighting for me. She is without a doubt the saint, and I am most definitely the sinner.
How is it the one thing neither of us wanted—neither of us anticipated that fateful night—has us fighting so hard to keep?
He steals my breath, stops my heart, and brings me back to life again all in a split second of time. But how can I love a man who won’t let me in? Who continually pushes me away to prevent me from seeing the damaged secrets in his past? My heart has fallen, but patience and forgiveness can only go so far.
How can I desire a woman who unnerves me, defies me, and forces me to see that in the deep, black abyss of my soul there’s someone worthy of her love? A place and person I swore I’d never be again. Her selfless heart and sexy body deserve so much more than I’ll ever be capable of giving her. I know I can’t be what she needs, so why can’t I just let her go?
We are driven by need and fueled with desire, but is that enough for us to crash into love?
“Do you have any idea what that does to me? How much knowing you want me turns me inside out?”
“Colton, please,” I plead. Right now I am not beneath begging for him to fill me. To take me to that unprecedented edge that only he can help me climb at a lightning pace.
“Tell me what you want, Rylee.” He chuckles as he withdraws his fingers, and I groan at the sudden feeling of emptiness.
I throw my head back. My eyes close as my body convulses with such need. “You. Colton.” I pant. “I. Want. You.”
He runs his finger over my bottom lip before leaning in and replacing his fingertip with his tongue, darting it between my lips before pulling away. I can’t help the whimper that falls from my mouth. “Tell me, baby.”
“Only you, Colton.”
In a flash he has me spun around, my back pressed up against the wall. His chest heaves and his jaw clenches as he looks at me with such intensity that I am lost to him. The outside world ceases to exist in this moment as I stand here exposed and unbidden. I am stripped physically and emotionally. I have never been more his.
book, the first chapter of it will leave you confused. At least it did with me. The first part of this book will leave you
with tears in your eyes and wondering what the heck is wrong with people. It was horrible, yet brilliant.
1. I have to have my outline (written in longhand), contained inside a white binder that has a picture my oldest daughter drew when I started writing Driven (that tells me how much she loves me). And I can’t start writing a book until that outline is completed – In it’s entirety, with reinforcements on all 80+ pages of the loose leaf notebook pages. – But I’m not quirky or anything.
2. I have to have music. Usually a song that makes me think of the scene I am writing…and most typically, I have to listen to that song over and over until I know all the words…because if I don’t, I get super distracted trying to listen to the lyrics when I should be thinking about what Colton or Rylee will be saying next.
3. A thesaurus and dictionary. These are essential for me. I hate when two words are used within a few sentences of another. It drives me crazy. I’m sure you’ll find a few instances in Fueled where I did that and it’s purely an oversight on my part, but that really irritates me.
Also, confession time here…I was that kid who read books that were too advanced for me growing up, so there were a lot of words that I didn’t know the definition of. I never stopped to ask what they meant because I was too engrossed in the story, but over time, I learned that certain words fit in certain places. So sometimes when I write, I know that a word just works in a sentence, but I have to look the word up to make sure it has the exact meaning I intend it to have in order to get the point across that I want. I know that sounds weird, but that’s how my brain works.
Also, besides a regular thesaurus, I have my ‘erotic thesaurus’ at my side. Yes, they actually have a thesaurus that has fifty different terms for “thrust” or “desire” or “sex” – I’m dead serious. Some of them are pretty damn funny too that I’d never be caught dead using.
4. I definitely need my little kids around. That’s a must. Nothing makes writing easier than the incessant chatter of a 3, 4, and 7 year old requesting more juice, more snacks, a different TV show, or asking why Playdough isn’t supposed to go up your nose every five seconds…and even more importantly, all of these questions being asked while writing a sex scene. Nothing ramps up the steam factor more that hearing “mommy, mommy, mommy” like a broken record as the soundtrack to that sex scene. Can you sense the sarcasm here in this point? Because seriously, this is how I write…would it be easier with peace and quiet? Hell yes. Is that a reality? Never.
5. I usually have a Diet Coke at my side. I don’t drink coffee—I’m one of those rare people that even hate the smell of it—so my essential vice is Diet Coke. (oh, and some chocolate).
6. I need the internet…because let’s face it, what’s a better source for researching possible sex positions (I’m dead serious here people…) or specifics on a car or location when you are in the middle of a scene. And besides, the distraction of checking Facebook is always counterproductive to the writing process but a big necessity.
7. I also have to have a pad of paper next to me or a pile of scribbled notes that I’ve made throughout the day. Little notes of phrases or actions that I know will fit in the story somehow but I’m not sure how just yet.
8. Lastly, I need hope. Lots of it. Hope that the story will turn out how I want it to. Hope that I can make the thoughts in my head come across to the keyboard: the emotion, the angst, the feeling. Hope that a reader like you will see the cover of my book amidst a crowd of many, take a second to read the blurb and say hey, that looks good, and actually read it. Hope that you liked the story enough that you want to read more.
So my requirements to write, quirky? Not really. A necessity? For me, yes.
Fueled is K. Bromberg’s second published novel and is the highly anticipated second book of “The Driven Trilogy.” Driven was her well-received debut novel and Book #1 of the series.