Guest Author Day with Stephanie Beck

Tricky Tricky

Happy April Fool’s Day! Today I’ll be giving away a car, a boat and a saber toothed tiger…riiiiggghhht! I won’t be doing any of those, so April Fools!! But I will talk a little bit about tricks played by writers and which ones get me fired up and which make me groan.

Depending on which branch of romance a writer is working on, the trickiness of the plot varies. On a standard contemporary romance, maybe there doesn’t need to be a super tricky twist. In a romance story with more of a suspense or mystery angle though, there is almost certainly going to be a twist in the last twenty pages. 

My favorite twists are the ones where the clues are laid so subtly that I didn’t even catch them in earlier chapters. The best friend/actual villain when done right is fantastic. Nora Roberts has used this one a few times, but the very first time I read Carolina Moon and experienced this switcheroo, I was thrilled! Unfortunately, once you see it done by a writer, you can start to expect it.

My least favorite twists are the ones you absolutely can’t see coming because they arrive after three busses, a swim across the ocean and a long trek on a pogo stick. These are the twists that had no lead up, usually perpetrated by characters who are introduced only for the big twist and end up solving all of the mysteries of the story to a happily ever after that ends up being too easy. I can’t even think of the actual title of any of the stories I’ve read like this, because these stories do end up being forgettable (or remembered for their bleh-ness).

On this fine day of trickery, what’s your favorite plot twist? A secret family member return? The best friend/villain? Space invaders did it? Unexplained paranormal twists? The possibilities are many!

 “How to Sweeten a Mother In Law” by Stephanie Beck

Buy Link

http://www.amazon.com/How-Sweeten-Mother---Law-ebook/dp/B004AM5DJC/ref=sr_1_13?ie=UTF8&qid=1301500936&sr=8-13

Lela wants to be part of Thomas’ family, but after his mother’s favorite dish turns up missing, his mother wants nothing to do with Lela. Will getting to the bottom of what happened to the dish heal a family rift or only create more?

Excerpt:

“What a waste of a sweet potato,” Marcia said and passed the bowl on without taking any. “And that bowl is a waste too. I saw how much they were at the store. It’s a single dish, Lela, no reason you can’t wash it. Next year I say we only use ceramic and fine china for holidays. I don’t want the good traditions of the past thrown out for convenience.”

“Whatever you say, Mom,” Thomas said over a bite of turkey. Lela took a bite of her own and had to admit it was delicious. For all her griping and bitching, Marcia was an excellent cook. “This just seemed like the way to go to avoid you bitching at Lela over a stupid bowl.”

Everyone froze after Thomas’ words, Lela included. She nearly choked on her bite, but didn’t want to move to get a drink and risk drawing attention to herself. The dish was something they all knew about, but no one brought up for fear of Marcia turning her bile toward them. Thomas didn’t seem affected though, he just kept chewing.

“Watch your language young man,” Marcia hissed, and very slowly Lela reached for her water glass.

“Oh you mean like you did on the message you left two weeks ago when you came by our house while we were gone and searched everywhere?” Thomas asked. He sounded like he was ordering a hamburger and not throwing a bunch of feral cats in a sack. “I believe your note said to tell my klepto, thieving wife to return your dish or you’d really make her miserable.”

Lela hadn’t heard anything about that note or about Marcia’s scavenger hunt, but from the daggers the older woman was shooting at her son, Lela assumed it was true. Thomas must have kept it from her to try to keep the tentative peace.

“Marcia, tell me you didn’t do that,” James demanded, back to eating, though the others were still taking their time.

“I—I don’t have to justify anything to anyone.” Marcia poured herself a small glass of white wine, but didn’t back down even in the slightest. “All I know is that Lela stole—stole that bowl, and now she’s at my table, eating my food and acting like she’s got a place in this family.”

Thomas slammed down his knife and fork and stood. Lela, hurt but mainly confused, pushed her chair back, ready to follow her man wherever he wanted to go.

“Okay, this is over. Who the hell took the bowl?”