Client work keeps me really busy and there’s the not-so-simple matter of finalizing the mountain of book details before publishing, preliminary marketing and mucho tasks still to do that make it nearly impossible to start a book let alone stay awake long enough to read it.

I was sooooooooo eager to read Jamie McGuire’s follow-up to Beautiful Disaster released recently. And though I started Walking Disaster around my birthday – now over a month ago – I didn’t finish it until just the other day. Because of a new practice — I say gimmick — that’s becoming more prevalent and much panned by the fans, though they may have only themselves to blame. The alternate POV.

Now, don’t get me wrong: of course, when I read any book in the female protagonist’s point of view, I’m slightly curious as to what that same book would sound like from the lead male character’s perspective. But be careful what you wish for. Sometimes what we think we want, we actually do not want at all. And while there may be different layers and colors to the story because it is being delivered from a totally separate and unique voice, it doesn’t change the fact that (A) the story plot points will remain the same and (B) the dialogue that features both characters is, yep, you guessed it, going to be identical, too. So, essentially, you’re hearing the same story retold. While hopes of hearing some new conversations and witnessing new revelations about said male character may be appear in the book, overall, these can be fairly scarce as in the latest McGuire follow-up. And this isn’t a slight at this author at all. Quite the contrary, I frequently cite McGuire as being very influential in my interest in the genre in the first place and she is by no means the only author to use this device.

What I question is why fans that beg and beg authors to do this then turn on them when they do? I have seen so much flak over McGuire’s sequel, people who are positively LIVID with the final results.  I am certain that the book is the result of those same fans’ loud and bubbly appeals for more Travis ‘Mad Dog’ Maddox! Folks, you wanted to hear from your book boyfriend, so there you go! You got him!

Some writers like M. Leighton (Up to Me) and J. A. Redmerski (The Edge of Never) do a fantastic job volleying back and forth from chapter to chapter representing multiple POVs while continuing to move the plot along without repetitiveness or an opportunity for boredom to set in. It is done skillfully, creatively and compellingly for the reader.

I went back and forth on choosing how I would tell my story for my upcoming book The Muse Unlocked. Initially, it was first person, present tense. Then, omniscient third person present tense and back to first-person past tense. Like a see-saw. I really struggled to make up my mind. Finally, I decided on ominiscient third person past tense.  And I’m glad that I did. The reader primarily gets an inside look into the main female character’s thoughts but there are some scenes in the book, where I do let the reader privy to what’s behind the words and actions of the lead male and I believe it was a simple case of being a reader of this beloved genre myself.

As I wrote, I kept asking myself – if it were me reading this, what would I want to know? Whose mind would I want to crawl up inside and examine more closely?

I’ve heard some authors talk about writing for genres outside their own favorite reading preferences simply because they had that one great big idea or they developed a following early and kept on feeding it. I don’t think I could do that. If I fell out of love with a style or genre, I think my heart would pull my words and stories somewhere else. I believe I would feel compelled to travel in a different direction.

Right now, this is where my heart lies and is supposed to be, and I feel fortunate that I know this. My own POV is clear as a bell. Now if only choosing it for our characters were that easy…

Happy reading!
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SO . . . I was going to try and rally some love for my FB author page, but I am failing horribly in my self-pimping abilities. I’m kind of bad at the social thing. Just throw me in there and I’ll take the social right out of media. Regrettably, in real life, too.
Anyway, I digress from the topic of my social ineptitude. I decided to write an entire chapter/scene from Caly’s Piece in Aden’s POV to try and get more likes on Facebook. I’ve failed at this. But that is perfectly fine because it’s not really about the likes. I wanted to have some fun! And I did! I really enjoyed flipping Caly’s Piece and climbing inside Aden’s head for a short time. It was a blast to write this scene!
For those familiar with Caly’s Piece- I chose chapter 16. You’ll have to go back and tell me what you think after you read both. Or even if you only read this one, let me know. I’d love to hear your thoughts.
For people who haven’t read Caly’s Piece- this may clue you into a big part of the story, but that’s okay! I hope that this intrigues you enough to read the whole story from Caly’s POV!

***Disclaimer: This is unedited material and could potentially hurt your head. I am not liable for any headaches. I also am not liable for any harm that you inflict upon yourself from any possible grammar mistakes you spot. Thanks for reading***

Without further ramblings, here it is:

Aden-

Pop was driving me insane. He kept talking to me from the porch and I kept shooting down his conversations with clipped answers while I attempted to relax on my bottom bunk. I didn’t want to deal with anything or anyone right now, least of all Tara, which is why I was hiding out in the cottage. I needed more time to think about this past week’s events, and the morning proved too short for resolution. I even added another mile to my early run, but it didn’t clear my head. The argument Caly and I had at the boardwalk yesterday weighed so heavily on my mind I couldn’t shake it. All I wanted to do was to talk to her, break the five years of silence between us, and yet I managed to screw it up by apologizing to her for Tara. I was such an idiot. Caly had every right to be pissed off at me.

“Aden. It’s important,” Pop called to me from the porch again. “You need to go let Ava know that dinner’s at five-thirty instead of six.”

I stood up and walked out beside him, giving up hope that he’d leave me alone. He was sitting in the chair with his binoculars, staring down the beach. “She’ll probably stop back in before then. Why should I go tell her now?”

He kept his eyes pressed inside the eye pieces. “Because I said so.”

Nice. “Okay, thanks for the clarification.”

He shrugged. When I stepped outside, I glanced next door inside Caly’s porch. “She’s with Ava swimming out in front of the boardwalk,” Pop said with the binoculars still glued to his eyes.

Great. I stepped into the alley and muttered, “Thanks for that, too.”

Walking the road seemed like the best option to avoid Tara. I stuck close to the cottages, ready to duck into an alley if I saw her coming. It was a good plan until she snuck up from behind.

Her floppy beach hat scrunched against the back of my head while she grabbed my sides and kissed the back of my neck. “Hey,” she said, falling in step beside me while Lydia stayed behind us. “Look I know things have been crazy lately, but you promised to go to my mom’s charity dinner tonight. My parents are expecting you to come.”

I hated that she hadn’t apologized to Caly for ditching her over at Turkey Point. Our fight the other night proved that she probably never would. She didn’t regret her actions; she played it off as a joke. The fact that she lied to me only added to my irritation today. It was the reason I didn’t want to be out here walking with her now.

“I’ll still go,” I answered, ducking through the next alley. I made a promise and I’d keep it, even though her parents probably didn’t give a shit if I showed or not.

“Yay,” she replied, mocking my unenthusiastic response.

She and Lydia stayed behind me, yacking about what they’d wear later when I spotted Caly and Ava in the water.
“Ava,” I called.

“Yeah? What?” she yelled back when I was closer to the waterline.

I stopped when the cool waves rolled over my feet. “Pop wanted me to tell you that dinner was going to be at five-thirty instead of six.” I watched their heads bob above the water and looked directly at Caly, unsure if I should say anything.

“Thanks. You should probably get back to your friends before they do something stupid,” Ava said with her eyes on the girls behind me. I turned and walked to them, knowing she was right. Tara would do anything to antagonize Ava. And after her “joke” the other day, I knew she’d treat Caly the same way.

The girls messed with their towels, adjusting for the best sunlight as Caly stepped out of the water. She was wearing the same suit as Ava. The fact that they owned the same ridiculous crab-bottomed suit was comical, but I couldn’t laugh. There was nothing funny about her body. It was incredible. Water droplets ran down the curves of her skin as she hurried to her towel. She looked at me, and the moment our eyes met I was rushed with memories of her from all of our summers together. I could stare into her eyes for hours then. I had to pry my eyes away now, looking down at the sand, fearing every feeling that attacked me.

“Oh, look,” Tara said. “They match. How cute.”

“Let’s go,” Ava said to Caly.

I wanted to look back up, but I kept my eyes buried, like my feelings had been until Caly stepped foot back onto this beach.

“Hey,Tara! Let me know when you need a new nose job. I can hook you up really cheap. Maybe even free,” Ava said.

I smiled at Ava’s quip, keeping my head down.
Tara looked at me and smacked my arm. After Ava and Caly walked off toward the pier, Tara asked, “What the hell was that about?”

“What?” I asked, leaning my forearms against my bent knees and twisting a small twig between my fingers.

“You smiled.”

“And? It was funny, Tara. What? You can make fun of Ava but she can’t do that same to you?”

“Well, you weren’t supposed to think it was funny.”

I shook my head. Typical.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Alex jogging up to the pier from the boardwalk. He was up to something. He’d looked far too comfortable next to Caly on our couch last night. I was too pissed to ask him about it this morning, but I needed to make sure he wasn’t making a serious play for her.

I stood up and wiped the sand off my shorts. “I just saw Alex heading to the pier. I’ve got to tell him about dinner,” I said to the girls before making my escape.

“Wait,” Tara said. “We’ll go with you.”

Damn.

I didn’t say a word on the walk to the pier. The girls talked about tonight then lowered their voices when their topic changed to Caly and Ava. I debated bagging my idea of confronting Alex. I didn’t want Tara starting any trouble with the girls, but I knew she wouldn’t cross any lines unless someone else did first so I kept walking. Plus, I needed answers, and I refused to wait until later to get them.

Caly, Alex and Ava were standing on the dirt driveway toward the end of the pier.
Alex had his arm draped over Caly’s shoulders. As we approached, he squeezed tighter, pulling her body closer to his. “Hey, brother,” he said to me. “What are you up to? I haven’t seen you all morning. It was almost like you were hiding in the cottage after your morning run. So glad you decided to come out.”

I glared at him and caught Caly’s eye.

“Is that where you were all morning? I thought you had to go into town with Alex?” Tara asked me as she and Lydia looked over the edge of the pier to the rocks below. I could hear the waves splashing against them, ready to consume them completely with the changing tide.

“Hi, Alex,” Lydia squeaked, ignoring Caly under his arm.

“Hey,” Alex replied blandly with a nod.

Caly slipped out of Alex’s grip and moved to the other side of the pier, followed by Ava.
I kept my eyes on Alex, who watched Caly’s backside with interest. I couldn’t ignore the heat that rose inside me while he stared at her. Tara and Lydia moved past us. I was irritated that they were following Caly and Ava, knowing they’d start talking smack, but it couldn’t have been better timing. I needed Alex alone to get answers.

“Man, Caly has really grown up, right?” Alex said to me, keeping his eyes toward the other side of the pier. The trees and the broken cement partitions obstructed most of our view of the girls.

I wondered what he was playing at. He didn’t like girls our age; he always went for women. Under his usual standards, they had to be at least four years his senior. It’d been his rule ever since middle school.
“What’s up?” I finally asked.

He looked back at me. “Not much. Hanging out. You know, the usual.” He shrugged with a smirk. “What’s up with you?”

I smirked also. He was dancing around the subject and I wanted to know why. “So, you and Caly, huh? I would have never thought you’d be interested in anything less than a cougar.”

“Maybe I’m for equal rights. I’ve grown up. My tastes have changed a bit.”

“Since last week?”

“What can I say?” He glanced over toward the girls. “I can’t turn down someone as fine as her. She’s changed since she’s been away, in a very nice way. Have you looked at her ass lately? An apple bottom like that makes me want to start eating the four suggested servings of fruit a day.”

I forced a laugh. He was antagonizing me, but I had no idea why. What could possibly be his reason? “Give it up, Alex.”

“What, Aden?”

I shook my head. “You aren’t fooling me or anyone else, dipshit.”

“Aren’t I? I can’t say I know what you mean. I’m a smitten fool, though. That girl has no idea what she’s doing to me. Wait, is that jealousy I see in your stiff posture, brother? Do you still have a ‘thing’ for Caly? Are you craving apple pie?” He laughed.

“Just admit it, Alex.”

“You admit it, Aden,” he said, laughing again with a stupid grin on his face.

I wanted to remove that grin by knocking out a few of his teeth. He was lucky I settled for a stiff arm to his chest instead. He grabbed my hand as he stumbled backward, pulling us both over the edge of the pier.

Alex released his grip when we fell. I pushed both of my hands in front of my face just as I broke the water’s surface. I waited other body parts to break against the rocks; luckily, I only grazed one with the side of my head. My body cut through the rest of the murky bay water until my hands found the sandy bottom. I gripped the sand with my fingers, anchoring my body. The water pressed my ears with the silence of depth. I held the breath in my lungs, concentrating on the only thing I could hear─my heart beat as it slowed.

Alex never admitted to lying about his actions toward Caly. He could’ve been telling the truth, though it was a truth I didn’t want to face. But I knew all of this wasn’t his fault, even if he liked her. It was all me. All of the memories of Caly and I together were returning, and they were relentless.

I heard another splash from above so I released my fingers and let the waves rock me as I floated up. I kept my face down when I reached the surface, prolonging the truth, knowing I’d have to start making decisions that were bound to hurt someone.
A hand grabbed at my arm and spun my body around, startling me. I lifted my head and reached for the cut on my temple. I looked at who had a hold of my other arm under the water. Caly.

How’d she get into the water?

“He’s alive!” Alex yelled sarcastically from the rocks.

“What the hell happened?” Ava asked still standing on the pier beside Tara and Lydia.

Caly was co close to me. Drops of water ran down her cheeks and others rolled over her lips. Our eyes met and my heart beat quickened again, remembering all the times we’d spent in this same trance. It always ended with her sweet lips on mine.

“We had some words,” Alex answered Ava. “Now can someone help me out of this crack before I get swallowed by a catfish?”

Our silent connection broke when Caly released my arm and turned to swim to the rocks.
I refused to climb back up the rocks near Alex. The chance of me actually hitting him was greater if I stuck around any longer. It didn’t matter if he was serious about pursuing Caly or not. He pissed me off.

The swim to shore was quick, but not quick enough; Tara and Lydia caught up with me despite my effort to leave without them. I walked along the water’s edge, kicking the waves lightly, ignoring Tara’s recount of what occurred at the pier.

I knew I had to go out to dinner with Tara tonight, but my mind was focused on escaping at some point to talk to Caly. I needed to be around her. I needed to find out if she was feeling the same way. The look in her eyes today told me a lot, but I needed more. I needed to hear it in her voice.
Maybe I just needed her.

Hope you enjoyed reading Aden!
Want to share your thoughts?
Leave me a comment and come visit me on FB (still trying to be social).

~Jen

Thank you to everyone who participated!!

Welcome to A Hero’s Blog Hop where you’ll get to see things from the eyes of the hero.  I’ve chosen Jon Cripps from my romantic mystery, The P.U.R.E. because that novel was written solely from the heroine’s first person point of view. We only saw Jon as Gayle saw him–a big, strong, silent type with quirky communication skills.

So…I think it’s only fitting that we give Gayle’s hero a chance to share his POV.

This is the scene at a work party held at the home of one of the big cheeses. Gayle has rescued Jon from the overly amorous clutches of their client. They are alone in the host’s home office and their relationship is close but purely platonic. Plus Jon is not at all who Gayle thinks he is. WARNING: Minor Spoiler ahead if you haven’t read The P.U.R.E., but not enough to spoil the overall book. It’s the least surprising of the reveals in the book.

I’d been itching to get inside Bob’s office all night. Gayle being the catalyst for my invasion presented a slight complication but perhaps I could kill two birds with one stone–get the bugs planted and keep Gayle out of trouble. Again.

I pulled the door shut behind us to keep Nicky from following but also because Gayle had grown loud and more boisterous and keeping a low profile was a better way to play the scene. Time to wrap the party up and get her home.

“Thanks, Gayle.” I hitched a hip on the edge of Bob’s desk. “I never thought she’d be so persistent.”

“You’re weckum.” She swayed, her eyes glassy and wild.

Wow. She was shit-faced. But I’d watched her. She’d only had maybe two glasses, or so I thought. How and when had she consumed more without my noticing?

“Well-come.” Her second attempt wasn’t much better than her first and she obviously knew it. Snorts of laughter as she moved closer wafted a cloud of alcohol my way.

“Gayle, how much have you had to drink?”

“Nosso mush.” She jerked forward and thrust three fingers in my face, forcing me to flinch to save my eyeballs. She changed finger positions, pantomiming holding a thimble-sized object.

I caught hold of her elbows to keep her from falling on her ass. She had never seemed so tiny and vulnerable as she did in that moment. Thoughts I had no business entertaining made a play for control of my brain and other parts of me. No. No. No. I couldn’t allow them to gain any sort of foothold. Business. Just business. We needed to keep it that way. I needed to finish my mission, gather evidence then turn the screws.  “Maybe I should take you home.”

The smile on her face fell and she stilled. “You, Jon Cripps, are looking very … kissy … kiss-bull.” She slid her arms up my chest and around my neck.

Sweet Jesus, give me strength! She pressed closer, her body warm and supple against mine. My blood roused at the overwhelming temptation–her scent, the press of her breasts, her large blue eyes gazing up into mine, flaxen hair tousled like she’d just rolled out of bed. Bed… my bed… naked. No! Not my bed! Think of Thalia. Think of the bureau. Think of the mission. Think of Bob just on the other side that door, of Kenneth, of Jeff. Don’t screw this up and for God’s sake, keep your hands off her.

She reached up and exerted the barest minimum of pressure to pull my head closer to hers. I let her. I couldn’t stop myself. Two warm lips so close, so close. She kissed me. Or did I kiss her? It didn’t matter because as soon as she did, I did, the quicksand caught hold and dragged me down. I didn’t even put up a fight.

She parted her lips, welcoming me inside, and my traitorous tongue charged forward and took what she offered. I shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have taken her in my arms. I’d always known that if I ever did, if I ever succumbed in a moment of weakness, I’d be forever lost. And I was.

Only she was drunk, unable to control her impulses. She’d have never kissed me had she been sober. I needed to stop it, stop the descent from accelerating. Why wasn’t I? How was a woman so delicate and small able to bring me to my knees with just a touch, just a kiss?

Delilah. She was my Delilah, and I knew then the only way I’d ever be able to purge her from my system would be to die with the Philistines…but what a way to go.

So, if you liked that and want to read Gayle’s take on that same scene and the rest of the story, please buy The P.U.R.E., available at these fine booksellers:

Amazon | B&N.com | All Romance eBooks | Books on Board | Diesel ebooks | Powell’s

OR if you’re a member at Goodreads and live in the US, I’m currently doing a giveaway of 2 signed copies of The P.U.R.E. Offer ends August 6th!

Leave me a comment for a chance to win a $10 gift e-card to Amazon (the prize for this stop). Be sure to include your email in your comment for a chance to win one of the GRAND PRIZES at the hop’s host site:

1st Grand Prize: A Kindle Fire or Nook Tablet

2nd Grand Prize: A $50 Amazon or B&N Gift Card

3rd Grand Prize: The following Swag Pack!

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Then visit the other blogs on the hop for more chances to win prizes!

This is a Blog Hop!