Showing posts with label humorous paranormal romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humorous paranormal romance. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 4, 2017

Make a Connection with Your Hero & Heroine with Humor

by Maureen L. Bonatch 

“Laugher is the shortest distance between two people.”- Victor Borge

When I met my husband everyone used to say that we were complete opposites, that they didn’t understand the connection. He is a loud, outgoing extrovert. I’m a quiet introvert. 
I used to always use the old saying as my rationale and insist that, “Opposites attract.” 
But since then, I’ve learned there was something underlying that drew us together in the first place, that forged the connection that we’ve maintained over decades. It’s a shared sense of humor. 

Various studies have shown that 
  • Women are attracted to men who make them laugh
  • Inside jokes between couples helps to create a bond, establishes security, and helps relationships last longer
  • Funny people are thought to be more social and more intelligent

Humor in Your Story Benefits Your Readers

Besides the fun you’ll have writing the story between your heroine and hero, you’ll be helping out your readers, too. That’s because laughter is more than just good for the soul, laughter is good for you, it can…
  • Lower blood pressure
  • Release endorphins
  • Produce a general sense of well being
  • Reduce stress hormone levels 

Hooking Up Your Hero and Heroine

So, the next time you’re looking for that connection between your hero and heroine, perhaps you can look a little further than skin deep. The color of your heroine’s hair might change through the years, and perhaps those massive muscles of your hero start to decline as their love grows and he has less time to devote to the gym. A shared sense of humor is timeless, and doesn’t fade over the years. It only nurtures the savored, favorite inside jokes and deepens the bond.

Wanna Tickle Your Funny Bone?

I love writing humor into my stories. GrandmaMust Die was great fun to create.

Carman has worn out more towns and last names than impractical shoes protecting the secret of her magic blood. 
But when a friend goes missing, and another is infected with a deadly spell, Carman must choose. 
Expose her magic blood by curing the spell—or stop the infection from spreading by killing the source…the grandmother.

Is a Sense of Humor High on Your Checklist of Essential Qualities in a Hero in Fiction and/or Reality?


About Me:
Maureen Bonatch dreamt of becoming a Solid Gold Dancer. When the show ended, she followed other paths. Surviving motherhood to twins (so far) gave her the confidence to learn belly dancing, declare herself a tequila connoisseur and act as biker babe with her alpha hubby. Maureen grew up in small town Pennsylvania and her love of the four seasons—biking, sweat pants, hockey and hibernation—kept her there. While immersed in writing or reading paranormal romance and fantasy, she survives on caffeine, wine, music and laughter. A feisty Shih Tzu keeps her in line.

Find Me:


Sunday, May 4, 2014

Writing tips taken straight outta life… or how writing is a way to talk without being interrupted

By Maureen L. Bonatch

I am number four. Not just that I blog on the fourth of the month but that I was fourth born in my family.  

With an older brother and two older sisters, and then a younger one coming along to steal any potential glory I might have had ‘as the baby’ to boot. 
See how I was rockin' the plaid pants for attention

So I wasn’t the oldest, the middle, or the baby, I was just number four. 
By the time I came around, when I’d ask about my baby pictures, mom would point to any random picture of her holding a baby and say it was me to pacify me. 
(It usually wasn’t…just sayin’. But as a mom to twins I can relate when I’m not quite sure which one it was in the baby picture.)
Luckily we started to dress one in pink and one in purple--
so I can be sure who they are in most pictures



Growing up in a large family meant I’d have more luck finding and positively identifying myself in one of those baby pictures than talking without being interrupted.

Although I’ve discovered that my youth in constant pursuit of getting my two cents in before someone else starts rattling on or talking louder to talk over me may have had at least one positive side effect…I started writing. 


Journaling, which lead to the novels I write today…just to get to talk without being interrupted.
That being said, as the fourth sibling in a room full of loud, chatty family members, I keep that in mind when I’m writing a scene that has several characters. Most likely the others aren’t going to sit there quietly and let one person rattle on and on without interrupting to get their two cents in. 

Even writing Paranormal has some harsh realities 
(Unless their superpower is to command undivided attention at all times)
As tempting as it is to have my heroine start to discuss the daily drama that has unfolded with her sister and let her ramble on until she's done, it's unlikely to happen in real life. I know darn well If I want my story to be realistic, her sister is going to pepper in a question here and there or try and turn the story back to herself by offering up something that happened during her day. Or the hero is going to walk in during the conversation and throw his two cents in. 


Remember who is in your scene... and when did they get there? 
While rereading my current WIP, Nancy says something to the hero. Granted it was the third time I'd read this scene but the first time I realized Nancy hadn't been in that room and he hadn't met her yet, so how did he know her name? edit...edit...edit..

The Talking Heads was a band, don't make it your characters:
Then perhaps the phone starts ringing, your heroine needs to open an umbrella, or the coffee is ready...don't forget the scene or you'll end up with two talking heads. 
(And your reader can't see the plaid pants your heroine might be wearing to draw their attention away from the rest-unless you describe them.)

So tell me, I am the only one that resorted to raising their hand to get a turn to talk due to exhausting myself from trying to get my two cents in? 






Wednesday, March 24, 2010

The Art of Fang Shui...Remix?

Nope, just in print format now and since my week has been less than ideal, falling back on this news always makes me feel better :-)

Seeing a book in print was one of my goals for 2010 and I'm please to announce that my first full length humorous paranormal book has lived up to the challenge.

To celebrate, here's a never before seen excerpt:

She huffed her irritation. “Are we running to or from Andre Valkaret, because it seems to me we’re definitely running and by the way, who the hell is he?” The hot tea warmed her throat. She savored the faint spicy aroma and took another sip.

There was nothing in life that couldn’t be made better with a cup of tea.

“Unfortunately, we are running toward Andre. I believe he is the one behind the disturbances in the paranormal world, unless I find out Duncan has truly gone on a rampage.”

“Why? What’s the big deal about this Andre person?”

Edwin’s gaze wavered. “Do you truly want to know?”

“Do I?”

“You will sometime during this quest. Andre is a demon lord who has gotten a taste for the wealth and prestige power can bring.”

“Great. A paranormal dictator. Just perfect.” Hannah chewed the inside of her lip. “And do I even want to know who Duncan is? You keep throwing names at me, and I don’t know any of them from Adam. I need information, bounty hunter.”

He sighed. “Duncan is my friend, I have known him for years. I do not believe he would lose all reason and embark on a killing spree. I will not know for certain until we talk to Marilyn McAvis, the Witch of the North Forest.” He stared at her in the mirror over the dresser but his blue eyes betrayed no emotion. “We will use the daylight hours to rest, buy the supplies we need, and plan our strategy. We will resume travel at dusk.”

She lifted a brow. “Hmm, let’s see, sleep by day, travel by night. It seems you’re more of a vampire than you want to admit.”

After setting the mug of tea on the nightstand, Hannah padded to the mirror to examine her appearance. “Perfect.” She cringed to see her short-layered hair stood up in spiky disarray, the red wisps hopelessly out of whack. She leaned closer to the glass, horrified to discover a piece of pretzel embedded into her cheek. It was part of her late night snack from the vending machine. Hannah met Edwin’s gaze in the mirror. Mortification washed over her to see faint amusement lurk in the frozen blue depths. Was he trying to develop a sense of humor? “Just perfect.”

“Your flirtation with sarcasm will not get you very far in life.”

In annoyance, Hannah picked the offending snack from her cheek. She stuck her tongue out at him then belatedly realized it must look terrible after a full night’s sleep. “Yeah, well, that’s how I deal with abnormal situations, and this one takes the cake.” She turned to the mirror, determined to make sense of her situation.
The splash of freckles over her nose stood out in sharp relief, her green eyes appeared faded from lack of sleep. Why couldn’t I be one of those women who looked great when they woke up? “What you see is what you get.”

“Vanity is wasted emotion.” His lips twitched. “I am not a vampire. I only have a quarter of those genes. I have found when I am on the hunt of a criminal it is best to travel at night. The darkness is good for concealing movement, and the criminal element, whether they are human or not, do most of their illicit activity when the sun goes down.” He brushed at a speck of lint on his shirt. “Will there be any more questions?”

“I can’t think of any at the moment but give me time. I’m still attempting to absorb all of this.” After a brief rummage in her bag, Hannah procured a green toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. “Good ole magic bag.” She glanced at him again. “Look, I’m sorry I teased you. This situation is so bizarre. I still don’t understand what I’m doing in the middle of it.”

“Hannah, if at any time you feel uncomfortable then you may leave. My mission will suffer, but I cannot bind you to me. I will not force you to do something you do not want to do.”

“I doubt that.” She gave an unladylike snort. “Powerful men like you have probably done your fair share of creative detainment.” The baby fine hairs at the back of her neck quivered at the thought of being “detained” by him. “In spite of the fact I feel death and destruction will show up at any time, I’m intrigued by your quest. Killing is wrong, no matter who does it.” She tapped her toothbrush against the palm of her hand. “Besides, it’s not like my life was at a pinnacle of success.” Tears unexpectedly filled her eyes as despair washed over her.

“Success is only how you measure yourself, Hannah.”

She swallowed past the tears then watched him slip a slim brown wallet into his back pocket. “Okay, so let’s get a couple things straight. You can’t be ordering me around all the time. You may ask me, but not order me. We are now a partnership. Equal responsibility, equal effort. And, you have to loosen up because you’re too anal for your own good.”

“Anal?” He sipped his coffee and lifted a glossy brow. “I am not familiar with that term. Please explain.”

“You’ll need to know some slang of this century. Anal means straight-laced or stiff.”

“As in my body? I will become rigid?”

Warmth heated Hannah’s cheeks at the images his words provoked. “Uh, no. As in, an unbending will. Or unable to compromise.”

“I see.” The corners of his mouth tipped up in a tentative smile. “Agreed.” He held out his hand. “Partner.”

“Partner.” As soon as Hannah took his hand to shake on their deal, emotions flashed through her mind. Pain, sadness, and anger echoed through the corners of her brain, and rocked her senses with bright flashes of white light. She yanked her hand from his grasp. Blinking rapidly, she stared at him in apprehension as her vision returned to normal. “Who are you?” Her voice was barely a whisper. “What are you not telling me?” Her fingers itched to touch him a second time just to see if she’d experience the same sort of reaction again.

Sadness clouded his eyes for a moment before he retreated behind the façade of calm indifference. “If I told you now, you would not believe me. I have held onto the secret for more than a century, one more night will not make a difference.”

She took a big gulp of now tepid tea, disheartened when her hand trembled. “Fine, I get it. It’s sort of a need-to-know basis, right? I’ll accept that. However, I have learned, over the years, to accept all sorts of things. Call me Alice if you want, but you’d be surprised what I would find normal.”

“Why would I call you Alice when that is not your name?” He shot her a pointed glance. “But I would caution you to remember normality is relative, Hannah.”

Wanna find out how these two got into this mess and what happens next? You'll have to buy the book!

You can buy The Art of Fang Shui here: http://www.eirelander-publishing.com/artoffangshui.htm

Happy reading!