Ally Blake Romance Author - Blog

Latest news from Australian romance author Ally Blake, writer of fun, fresh flirty romance novels.

Tuesday, 24 January 2012

ebook of the month... inspiration

First published June 2007
eBook out now!

Trish Wylie and I had an infamous - good-natured - online spat about Nathan Fillion while I was writing this book.  I inadvertently revealed her plans to marry him, and she set to barring me from using any of her favourite bits of him as inspiration for this story.  It was war ;). And you wouldn't believe the thousands who weighed in at the time!  But take into account the rugged handsomeness, the glint in the eye, the big strong manliness of the guy - how could I not be inspired while writing my Tom?

Check out Trish's blog - Writing and Other Forms of Insanity - and search for "Nathan Fillion Ally Blake" - has a nice ring dontcha think? - to see the war for yourself ;).
My Maggie was just as easy.  The delicacy, vulnerability,  spare beauty of Keira Knightley in this picture was heaven sent.

The excerpt:
‘Paint that!’ Sandra gasped from the veranda.  Through the window Maggie saw her pointing downwards with her smouldering cigarette.  And then the sound of a chainsaw cut through the silence.

‘Oh shoot...’  Before Maggie could think of an excuse to stop them, the other two women sorted out their wine glasses and headed outside.  She had no choice but to follow.

‘This is new,’ Ashleigh rumbled under her breath.

Below Tom stood with his legs shoulder width apart as he wielded his chainsaw.  Jeans hugged lean hips.  His dark hair was spiky and a mess.  And a sheen of sweat glowed along his tanned muscular arms.

Sandra sighed eloquently beside her, and Maggie had to admit, even though she had been steadfastly paying no heed to the fact for days, he did make for quite the glorious picture.

‘I know about him,’ Freya said her voice heavy with accusation.  ‘That’s Tom Campbell.  What’s he doing here?’

Maggie leant away from the rail and moved back inside, the last thing she wanted was to be discovered ogling.  The others followed after a time.  Except one.

‘Sandra,’ Ashleigh called out, clicking her fingers.

Sandra took a drag on her cigarette, put it out in a potted fern, took one last lingering look at Tom, then clumped back in. 

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