What inspires you?
For me, the fun of being a writer is in never knowing when inspiration will strike. For Restored Dreams, an old Victorian home now housing the local historical society provided the inspiration. In Law Breakers and Love Makers, a pair of artists hosted a retirement party I attended in their spacious new home. While other guests talked about the food and their retirement plans, I envisioned bad guys climbing over the lower wall and onto the secluded property. I later asked the hostess if I could use her house for the setting of the romantic suspense I'd fully plotted during the party. Friends are hesitant to invite me to their parties now. In Decisive Moments, a boarded-up house in Mission Hills became the setting for the conflict between the reclusive owner of that home and the gutsy photographer determined to photograph it. Temp to Permanent is a romantic suspense inspired by the hunky temp I once interviewed and hired to cover my accounting duties while I prepared my employer's books for year-end close. 
What inspired the premise for your story?
My heroine, a house-poor school teacher, lacks the funds to reroof her inheritance, the run-down Victorian house where she grew up, and her worries are threatening her health. Treasure is too proud to accept help. Her roof leaks, her plumbing, too, and her hundred-year-old kitchen needs updating. Sound familiar? One catastrophe after the other befalls Treasure, who barely scrapes together the property tax payment. What she needs is a white knight. Enter Buck, who is willing to pay for all her repairs. He hopes his philanthropic endeavors in Lakeview will make life easier for any residents who suffered when his grandfather absconded with their life savings.
Why is the setting to your story so important?
To the heroine, her aging house symbolizes her very existence. To the casual observer she has everything. To Treasure, her life is in shambles. She can't stretch her teacher's salary to make ends meet. She longs for a strong shoulder to lean on, a husband and children of her own, not just the students enrolled in her classes, but there are stumbling blocks to Treasure ever finding happiness, traumatic events from her past. Some quickies (pardon the pun):
Flowers or Chocolate? Flowers
Steak or Lobster? Fillet Mignon
Satin or Lace? Both. I'm at true romantic
Irish or Italian? Italian. It's such a musical language.
Thunder or Lightning? Thunder
Dark eyes or Light eyes? Dark eyes
The sound of a heartbeat or a crackling fire? The sound of a heartbeat
Sleeping bag or Bed? Bed. Have you tried to make love in a sleeping bag?
Dinner or Movie? Dinner
Holding hands or Holding his attention? Holding hands
Rain or Sunshine? Rain
Silk sheets or Cotton sheets? Silk sheets
By Toni Noel
Available at: Desert Breeze Publishing | Amazon
Blurb:
Her roof leaks, the plumbing, too, but on a teacher's salary Treasure Montgomery can barely pay the taxes on her property, so the list of needed repairs to the grand Victorian house she inherited from the aunt who raised her continues to grow.
Treasure surrounds herself with other people's children, seeking some fulfillment in an otherwise empty life until she meets Buck. A retired rodeo rider turned philanthropist, Buck willingly donates his labor to anyone who needs a helping hand, spending his father's ill-gotten fortune to make amends for his father's bad deeds, but Treasure wants no part of his charity.
Buck persists. Treasure resists, and he turns to subterfuge to get around the obstacles she throws in his path. She learns the truth and fears she might lose her house to Buck. How wrong can a woman be about the man with whom she's fallen in love?
Excerpt:
Treasure surrounds herself with other people's children, seeking some fulfillment in an otherwise empty life until she meets Buck. A retired rodeo rider turned philanthropist, Buck willingly donates his labor to anyone who needs a helping hand, spending his father's ill-gotten fortune to make amends for his father's bad deeds, but Treasure wants no part of his charity.
Buck persists. Treasure resists, and he turns to subterfuge to get around the obstacles she throws in his path. She learns the truth and fears she might lose her house to Buck. How wrong can a woman be about the man with whom she's fallen in love?
Excerpt:
Teaching at Lakeview Middle School is a breeze. Holding this Victorian house together is what's sapping my energy, Treasure Montgomery thought as she approached her ranch east of San Diego.
She stepped into her kitchen after a long day in the classroom, turned her back on the paint peeling off the hundred-year-old cabinets, and reached for The Thrifties.
First things first. I may as well get this over with.
The unread mail could wait. Finding another repairman to finish her upstairs bath repairs couldn't. Not when the man she'd hired to do the work had ripped up her floor, then quit.
She started making calls.
Nine calls later, she was no nearer finding a handyman she'd trust to do the work. Some of the men she talked to had even laughed at her.
"You'll pay what?"
"Try me again next fall."
"Get real, lady."
What am I going to do?
At the sound of a vehicle turning down her drive, Treasure glanced up. Who did she know who drove an antique truck?
Through the kitchen curtains -- those needed replacing, too -- she watched a tall man unfold and step out of the carefully-maintained blue truck. His jean-clad legs, like parallel train tracks, were slim and straight. A wide-brimmed Stetson hat hid his face, but she had no trouble making out wide shoulders that narrowed to the belt slung low at his waist.
He was billboard handsome, and not anyone she knew, but he'd look great on her horse. Make that any horse.
Experiencing the usual uneasiness the sudden appearance of a stranger brought, Treasure froze, debating her options as she stared at the closed back door.
Lock it and pretend no one is home?
No. Aunt Bee did that. Not me.
The sound of footsteps crossing her porch caused Treasure's heartbeat to stutter, then drum in her ears.
The man's knock, as cocky as his walk, rattled the door.
Wouldn't do to let the stranger know she'd cautiously watched his approach, Aunt Bee would have advised. Treasure patted her hair, making certain her hair tie still kept her long black hair neat, then waited a moment longer before answering the knock.
"Yes?" she said, opening the door a crack.
"Miss Montgomery?" the man said and removed his hat.
Hmm. Tall. Bushy brown eyebrows overshadowed his eyes but overall, she liked his looks, although he could use a haircut. Chestnut curls hid his ears and the back collar of his denim work shirt.
She nodded.
"Evening, Ma'am. My name's Buck. Angela Turner called to say you got yourself in some kind of bind and could use my help."
"Never trust a man with a Southern drawl," Aunt Bee always warned, an Aunt Bee-ism Treasure wanted to heed, but this man's mellow way of speaking touched something deep inside, warming her and almost making her smile.
Treasure sighed. "I'm sorry, there's been a misunderstanding. You see, I teach with Angela and happened to mention that the man I'd hired quit. She never should have called you. I told her I didn't like the idea of hiring a stranger to work on my house, no matter how highly you come recommended."
"Appreciate that," he said, grinning.
"You're the carpenter who did the Community Hall roof?"
"The church, too," he said with a grin guaranteed to make women swoon.
Not Treasure. Her first night out with a devastatingly handsome man, he'd destroyed her trust. Now she was immune to good looking men, but apparently not immune to this man's softly-spoken drawl.
Author Links:
Website: http://www.toninoelauthor.com/
Blog: http://www.toninoelauthor.com/blog.html
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/ToniNoelWriterShe stepped into her kitchen after a long day in the classroom, turned her back on the paint peeling off the hundred-year-old cabinets, and reached for The Thrifties.
First things first. I may as well get this over with.
The unread mail could wait. Finding another repairman to finish her upstairs bath repairs couldn't. Not when the man she'd hired to do the work had ripped up her floor, then quit.
She started making calls.
Nine calls later, she was no nearer finding a handyman she'd trust to do the work. Some of the men she talked to had even laughed at her.
"You'll pay what?"
"Try me again next fall."
"Get real, lady."
What am I going to do?
At the sound of a vehicle turning down her drive, Treasure glanced up. Who did she know who drove an antique truck?
Through the kitchen curtains -- those needed replacing, too -- she watched a tall man unfold and step out of the carefully-maintained blue truck. His jean-clad legs, like parallel train tracks, were slim and straight. A wide-brimmed Stetson hat hid his face, but she had no trouble making out wide shoulders that narrowed to the belt slung low at his waist.
He was billboard handsome, and not anyone she knew, but he'd look great on her horse. Make that any horse.
Experiencing the usual uneasiness the sudden appearance of a stranger brought, Treasure froze, debating her options as she stared at the closed back door.
Lock it and pretend no one is home?
No. Aunt Bee did that. Not me.
The sound of footsteps crossing her porch caused Treasure's heartbeat to stutter, then drum in her ears.
The man's knock, as cocky as his walk, rattled the door.
Wouldn't do to let the stranger know she'd cautiously watched his approach, Aunt Bee would have advised. Treasure patted her hair, making certain her hair tie still kept her long black hair neat, then waited a moment longer before answering the knock.
"Yes?" she said, opening the door a crack.
"Miss Montgomery?" the man said and removed his hat.
Hmm. Tall. Bushy brown eyebrows overshadowed his eyes but overall, she liked his looks, although he could use a haircut. Chestnut curls hid his ears and the back collar of his denim work shirt.
She nodded.
"Evening, Ma'am. My name's Buck. Angela Turner called to say you got yourself in some kind of bind and could use my help."
"Never trust a man with a Southern drawl," Aunt Bee always warned, an Aunt Bee-ism Treasure wanted to heed, but this man's mellow way of speaking touched something deep inside, warming her and almost making her smile.
Treasure sighed. "I'm sorry, there's been a misunderstanding. You see, I teach with Angela and happened to mention that the man I'd hired quit. She never should have called you. I told her I didn't like the idea of hiring a stranger to work on my house, no matter how highly you come recommended."
"Appreciate that," he said, grinning.
"You're the carpenter who did the Community Hall roof?"
"The church, too," he said with a grin guaranteed to make women swoon.
Not Treasure. Her first night out with a devastatingly handsome man, he'd destroyed her trust. Now she was immune to good looking men, but apparently not immune to this man's softly-spoken drawl.
Tell us what kind of heroes you prefer to write about.
My favorite hero is a man's man with nothing to prove. He is comfortable in his own skin, courteous to everyone, but has a soft spot in his heart for women, especially for my heroine. I write novels about safe havens for the heart, and the heroes in the books I write make certain my heroines find a safe haven in their arms. Does your heroine, Treasure, take after you? Or is she someone you wish you could be?
Like Treasure, I never learned to say 'No'. Until I went back to college I volunteered for so many jobs I endangered my health. In Restored Dreams, when Treasure takes on too much, she breaks out in hives. Ditto with me. I always spread myself too thin, so yes, Treasure has walked in my shoes. Author Links:
Website: http://www.toninoelauthor.com/
Blog: http://www.toninoelauthor.com/blog.html
Contest ends midnight, Saturday
March 3, 2012!
