The First Meet
by Maureen Fisher
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| More here: Cold Feet Fever |
First
meets between the hero and heroine are crucial to making a romance plot work. First
and foremost, it’s the first turning point of the book. After the first meet,
the protagonists are unable to return to their ordinary lives.
Not only does it
introduce the characters, it initiates the romantic conflict, helps set the
tone of the book, and hints at character goals and future conflict.
The first
meet should pack a good, dramatic punch in the development of the plot, and it
should leave the reader hungry to find out what these two people will get up to
the next time they meet.
In
Cold Feet Fever, my romantic crime mystery, Granddaddy Hiram wants
Sam Jackson, his grandson and senior business partner, to mend his wicked ways
and settle down. When he meets party planner Katie Deluca by chance,
Hiram senses she’s the perfect woman to tame Sam.
Unaware of Katie's former career
(mortician) and criminal connections, Hiram steps way over the line by hiring
her without his grandson’s say-so, giving Katie carte blanche to organize the
grand opening for Kinki, their
jointly owned nightclub. To compound the transgression, he implies that Sam is a
junior employee, and will report to Katie. One of her duties is to keep Sam in
line. To that end, Hiram insists she share Sam’s office.
Katie’s Goal in
the Scene:
To break the news to Sam as tactfully as possible that his boss hired her this
morning to organize Kinki’s grand
opening. As of today, Sam will now report to her, and they will share his
office.
Sam’s Goal in
the Scene:
To forget his financial worries by amusing himself, teasing the very
attractive, but uptight woman who had the nerve to barge into his office,
interrupting him during a most enjoyable massage session.
Without giving away too much, here is Sam and Katie's first meet.
********************
Excerpt
Her
chest rose and fell as she inhaled a deep breath. “Please don’t call me ‘Cupcake’.
My name is Katarina Deluca. People call me Katie.” She regarded him as though
she expected a reaction.
“Should
I know you?”
“Of
course not.”
A
lesser man might have missed her subliminal relaxation. Reading body language
was a mandatory talent for skilled gamblers, and he considered himself one of
the best. She’d hoped he didn’t recognize the name. Making a mental note to
Google Katie Deluca, he stuck out a hand. “Sam. Sam Jackson.”
She
shook his hand with surprising firmness. “I know all about you.”
“I
get that a lot.”
“If
we’re to hit it off, I have one request.” She fixed him with melted chocolate
eyes, which, on closer study, sparked with disapproval.
“Do
tell.” He picked up his pizza.
“Since
we’re sharing an office until after the grand opening, I must ask you to
refrain from entertaining female guests on your couch.”
Sam
froze, the pizza halfway to his mouth. “Say what?”
“I
won’t tolerate ‘massages’ while we’re sharing the space.”
“Sweet
baby Jesus,” he moaned. “I’ve gotta lay off bourbon.”
“Excellent
idea. Do your body a favor. Nevertheless, your senior partner, Hiram, engaged
me to plan and coordinate Kinki’s
grand opening. He also mentioned the only available space was in your office,
and indicated that he expected me to supervise you.”
An
arrow of pain speared Sam’s skull. The wily old man’s powers of persuasion
obviously worked fine in spite of major impulse control issues. Smelling
another of his granddaddy’s matchmaking attempts, he set down the last of his
pizza. “Hiram’s my granddaddy. He calls himself the senior partner because he’s
older, not because he’s my boss. He has no hiring authority.”
“Hiram
warned me you’d say that.” Katie’s voice brimmed with compassion. “He also
promised that after you got over your snit, you’d be happy to comply.” Under
her breath, she muttered, “It would have been a nice touch if he’d warned me
about the casting couch.”
Sam
lowered his feet to the ground with great care. Leaning forward, he spoke
softly, emphasizing every word. “It’s not a casting couch. I should know. It’s
my office, my couch.” For some reason, it mattered what she thought.
“Believe
it or not, I find this situation as difficult as you do.”
“I
doubt it.” He gulped a fortifying swig of coffee, wishing with all his heart he
could lace it with something stronger. “What else should I know?”
He
watched with reluctant amusement as she whipped out a notepad and flipped the
pages. Who used a notepad in this era of tablets and other electronic devices?
She
must have found the nugget of information she wanted because she stopped
flipping. “Ah, yes. Here it is. Hiram informed me you won a lot of money in the
casinos, enough to buy Kinki and
renovate it too, with plenty left over for a grand opening. His words were, and
I quote, ‘The sky’s the limit’.”
Sam
choked on his coffee.
About Me
Transplanted to Canada from Scotland at the tender age of seven, I’m an escapee from the world of bits, bytes, and dumps (possibly not what you’re thinking).
I’m a voracious reader, bridge and Mahjong player, yoga enthusiast, seeker of personal and spiritual growth, pickleball enthusiast, and avid gourmet cook. My husband and I love to hike, cycle, and travel.
I’ve swum with sharks in the Galapagos, walked with Bushmen in the Serengeti, sampled lamb criadillas (don’t ask!!!) in Iguazu Falls, snorkeled on the Great Barrier Reef, ridden an elephant in Thailand, watched the sun rise over Machu Picchu, and bounced from Johannesburg to Cape Town on a bus called ‘Marula’.
My Books
"Maureen combines action, adventure, romance, mystery, and an often LOL sense of humor in her page-turning novels. They are the perfect additions to your libraries, like da rum and da coconut in your piña coladas."
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| More here: FurBall Fever |
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| More here: The Jaguar Legacy |
Coming Soon: Horsing Around With Murder, a cozy
murder mystery with romance and inappropriate boomer humor.
Connect with Maureen
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