Sometimes it’s difficult to remember I’m writing romance. I have all these elements going on with my current work in progress. Paranormal elements, carnival elements, I even need to research the inner workings of antique pocket watches. Yesterday, instead of doing the Black Friday Christmas shopping like the rest of the world, I was reading old newspapers online that had to do with small towns and how they welcomed or shunned carnivals in the 1800s. Then there’s the demons. Oh, the demons! A whole other realm of research I must become expert of before I type The End. It’s crazy and it’s a lot of work and it’s wonderful.
But there’s the romance. That spark that attracts the hero and heroine. A subtle look, a tilt of the jaw, a bold stare. The romance has to be woven in there as I am crafting the plot of demons, old carnivals, and of course the pocket watch which drives the whole thing.
It’s hard, and I feel like I’m sinking in quick sand, but it’s fun, and I wouldn’t want to be writing anything else.