Last week we started with the premise that men have a less complicated thought process than women. As a female, I have to admit that I do sometimes over think a problem or situation instead of just taking it at face value. This is especially true when I was much younger and dating my husband. So tell me, to you find yourself over analyzing? Do your heroines fall into the same trap?
If you have an excerpt showing your heroine over thinking something, please share.
Here is an excerpt from Lady Caro’s Accidental Marriage, where Caro is trying to figure out what exactly Huntley is doing.
Hours later, clinking china woke her. She was surprised to find her head and one hand on Huntley’s chest. Her first thought was how improper being with him was. Then she remembered she was married, and, for reasons she did not yet understand, she’d asked him to join her in bed. It was like having two people in her head, one who wanted the warmth and comfort of Huntley’s body and the other who wanted to run as far as possible away from him. Right now, comfort was winning the battle.
One of his hands held her buttocks, anchoring her securely against him. His slow steady breathing whistled in a soft snore. The hand felt—well—how did she feel about the hand? It was warm and oddly comforting. But why was it there? Was it convenient because her bottom stuck out and thus made a good handhold? Or was it because he had long arms, and it was more comfortable than resting his hand on her waist? He stirred and the hand tightened a little and drew her closer. Ah, definitely a handhold.
ellaquinnauthor
Yes, I can relate! I always over analize everything! It spills over into my writing, as in my latest book, Tawny over thinks her decisions as well!
Karena, thanks for stopping by.
What a great excerpt, Ella. And what a great handhold! I think we all do this second-guessing. Comes from being a woman, I believe.
Thanks, Rosanna. I agree.
Loved the excerpt! Here is my bit from Apollo’s gift.
Cassie is thinking through making love with him.
His eyes sparked with light. He put his hand on hers and dragged it inch by inch over soft skin down his body, stopping low on his abdomen. “Are you sure?”
She quaked with anticipation. Was she sure? What woman had ever been sure of the man she was about to make love with? Her gaze fixed on his. She saw desire mingled with tenderness, and it called to her.
Focusing on his chin, she could avoid what intrigued her. “I’m not sure of anything, least of all what I want at this moment.”
“You know what you want, Cassie.” His voice sounded rough. ”Or you wouldn’t be here.”
Cassie had to think this through; she’d waited so long for this experience. But sex with a god? She lifted her gaze to his full lips, afraid that staring into his eyes would betray her need. “Standing here doesn’t mean I know what I want—well, I might want. It doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.” She sounded like an idiot.
Thanks, Sandy. I loved your excerpt as well.
lol – love the last line. I don’t over think – pretty much the opposite – impulsive – tend to get myself into a lot of trouble.
Thank you, Daryl and thanks for coming by.
Love the excerpt, Ella, hilarious!
Sometimes, I will over think a situation, I know I’m doing it, I try to stop but it plays and replays in my head like a stuck old fashioned record. Ah, the joy of being a woman.
Thanks you Carole. I’m glad you came by.
Loved the excerpt, as usual! Yes, both me and my heroines over-think everything. In fact, in my WIP, my heroine was second-guessing the hero’s motives so much it was even driving me crazy!
Thanks, Ally. LOL, that’s funny about your heroine.
Hahaha, I loved that excerpt, Ella. Definitely looking forward to reading the entire book.
Thank you, Melissa, and thanks for stopping by.
What Ally said!
LOL, Angelyn.
Great excerpt! My heroines tend to be action oriented.
Thanks, D’Ann.
Another great excerpt, Ella!
And yes…many times, I over-think things, too. Sometimes, obsessively so.
Thank you so much, Jenn.
I always see men saying ‘ugh woman. me want woman. me get woman.’
Okay, maybe they’ve slightly progressed from a cave man, but I still think that’s their foundational perspective.
Bad Liza is strutten her stuff today…
I think it still basically the same Liza. Thanks for stopping by.
What a fab excerpt! I’m looking forward to reading your books, Ella.
Thank you so much, Barbara. I can’t wait until they release.
What a great excerpt! I can’t wait to read this book!
Thank you, Stacy. This one should release sometime in 2014. It’s the 4th in the series.
I tned to over think things. I’m not sure about my heroine. I loved your excerpt would love to see what happens next.
Thanks, C.K. I’m glad you came by.
fun excerpt, Ella!
I’m definitely guilty of over-thinking things in real life. I can worry a problem to death, I tell ya! But I know I do it…and I make a conscious effort *not* to have my heroines/heroes do the same thing. They think, they act and react. Well, most of the time…. lol
Hi Kristina, i’m glad you liked the excerpt. Thanks for commenting.
Ooo! Ooo! Niice!
Thanks, Karen. I really appreciate your comments.
Even though I’m sure I made a sweeping generalisation last week, I’m not going to do so here again
. I think it all depends on the woman, my sister worries things to death — me? I don’t. Live and let. If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be. Go with the Flow. You could be dead tomorrow. That kind of thing 
This excerpt comes from my latest novella, “His Irish Eve,” from my February release.
Late May 1819–Cheshire
“Bloody hell!” Adam Lawrence cursed as his horse bucked again, each ripple of thunder sending the skittish stallion turning in circles. The skies had opened unexpectedly in mid-morning, and Lawrence had traveled in the rain for nearly an hour. He rode into the storm, the weather following along the God-forsaken emptiness of Cheshire. He knew little of the area except of the Cheshire cheese he often consumed at some of London’s best parties and of the Trent and Mersey Canal, which connected rural Cheshire to the industrial Midlands. Now, as he passed what appeared to be abandoned farmlands, he took pleasure in noting the aristocracy’s end, at least, the aristocracy his father preached.
In fact, it was his father who had sent him out in this torrential downpour. When the Earl of Greenwall summoned his son to Leicestershire, Adam had thought he would receive the usual lecture on financial responsibility.
Instead, Robert Lawrence delivered a different edict. “You will bring the boy to me.” The earl narrowed his gaze to rest censoriously on Adam.
Adam stiffened with the unspoken threat. His father’s tone was hardly encouraging. “Plan to replace me, Father?” In matters of his father, he always expected the worst. Cynicism had cloaked Adam’s shoulders so long that he had no trust remaining.
His father’s expression signaled his frustration with their renewed confrontational state. “You leave me no choice.” Adam heard what sounded like a hint of regret, although more than likely, the usual disdain for Adam’s lifestyle. “You have disregarded your obligation to the title, Adam. What else am I to do? Turn everything over to your cousin? Atticus Duncan will ruin Greenwall with his taste for extravagance.”
“Worst than mine, Your Lordship?” Ignoring his finely tailored clothes, Adam flopped in a chair.
The earl shuffled through a stack of papers. “I will not give credence to a debate on your and Atticus’s reputations.” His father extended a letter for Adam’s perusal. “This is from your own man of business. Mr. Jennings has corresponded with the young lady who demands the money from you.”
Adam studied the page. “How are we to prove this woman even knows Cathleen Donnel? My God! I have not seen or heard from Cathleen for nearly six years–not since I put her on a public coach to Cheshire. I released my mistress to her family. Even gave her a generous settlement.” His eyes searched Jennings’s letter for details. “Where in the hell is Mobberley?”
“It is south of Manchester, some fifteen miles,” his father supplied.
Adam asked the question he had avoided from the beginning. “What will you do with the boy? How do we explain the sudden appearance of my son? Your grandson? A child of whom we held no knowledge? A by-blow cannot inherit an entailment, Father.”
“It will be my concern.” The earl closed the conversation. “All you need to do is confirm that the boy is yours and then bring the child to Greene Hall. I will see to the arrangements.” With that, his father stood, picked up his gloves, and prepared to take his leave. “A bank draft is available for the woman–repay her for her kindness toward the child.”
Adam snarled, “Pay the lady for her silence, you mean.”
Greenwall’s brow rose in contention. “Believe what you wish, Adam. All I ask of you in the matter is to give the child safe passage. Then you may return to whatever entertainment is your latest avocation.”
It was typical of his father’s orders: They spoke of disappointment. No matter what Adam did, he had never pleased the earl. Somewhere along the way, Adam had just quit trying. It spoke profusely of their relationship that his father would welcome an illegitimate child into his home in hopes of salvaging the title. “As you wish, Sir.” Adam leisurely stood. “By the way, I may need an advance on my next quarter’s allowance.”
The earl’s eyes narrowed in disapproval. “Bring the boy, Adam, and we will discuss it.”
From the mud, an apparition rose to appear before his rain-blinded eyes, eerily spreading its wings. Opening first one and then another before sending Adam’s mount pawing the air to fight off the attack. Before he could react to the manifestation’s appearance, Adam found himself sliding rear first from the saddle to land unceremoniously in a river of brown ooze. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he heard a shriek of surprise, but Adam could not tell whether it came from him or from the dark specter.
Great excerpt Regina. Thanks for posting.
Great idea, Thanks! Here’s an excerpt from Big Horn Storm.
EXCERPT FROM BIG HORN STORM
The sound of a man’s voice made Niki’s head whip around as she tried to bring Storm under control. The man was not speaking English and the insignia on his uniform did not belong to the United States military, nor did the uniform sport a maple leaf such as the one she had seen on the helicopter the previous day. Thoughts swirled through her head, making no sense at all, but the one thing she was certain of was that she was in deep trouble.
Niki reined Storm around, now surrounded by five more men. Her body went rigid as the horse’s legs suddenly stiffened. Storm snorted at the closest man and then pawed angrily at the ground. The men began advancing, smiling and laughing. Niki couldn’t understand what they were saying, but as she spied two more dead bodies on the ground, she felt certain they had no intention of helping her.
Her eyes darted from man to man. She scanned the area and noted that she was still very close to the edge of the ravine. Niki could feel the big horse quiver beneath her and tense, ready to spring at the slightest provocation. She gripped Storm’s sides with her legs and grasped the saddle horn. One man pulled a pistol out of its holster. She doubted he intended to shoot her yet—instant death would be too quick, easy and preferable. Niki feared he planned to take out her only mode of escape. She couldn’t allow her beloved horse to be shot at point blank range, but most importantly, she couldn’t be delayed too long or she doubted her grandfather would survive.
With a prayer and a swift kick, Niki informed Storm it was time to run for their lives. The horse sensed the danger and cleared the edge of the ravine before the men could react. Niki held on as tight as she could and leaned back to help the horse keep his balance as he lunged down the slope. Rocks dislodged under the fury of his churning hooves as he barreled down the embankment.
They had nearly reached the creek when the first series of shots rang out. Storm shied and turned to follow the creek downstream rather than plunging into the water with its slick bottom at an uncontrolled speed. Another barrage of gunfire pelted the ground, narrowly missing Niki, but hitting nearby rocks, spraying the horse with sharp stone fragments.
A slight bend in the ravine took them out of sight of the shooters and soon the slope was much less intimidating, making it easier for Storm to cross the creek and climb out of the ravine. They had just reached the top when Niki heard the unmistakable sound of two dirt bikes’ engines firing up.
“I hope you have a little more left,” she whispered as she leaned over Storm’s neck, flattening herself against his steaming body.
Her position was all the encouragement the horse needed …
Hi Kim. Wonderful excerpt.
These are great excerpts!! Thanks for letting us post on your blog, Ella!! Here’s mine from Book #1 in my Onyx Group/mercenary series, Hard Core. I’m working on Book #2 right now and it’s going really well! I can’t wait to bring you Mercer’s story!
Excerpt, Hard Core:
“Look, mister, you aren’t going anywhere until I clear you. What you do after that is your business. Until then you belong to me.”
Slade’s heart pounded. You belong to me. Why did those words effect him? He belonged to no one. Her hand burned like fire against his skin. He looked down to where it rested over his heart, small and delicate against the muscles of his chest. Her skin was soft, her fingers long, slender, feminine.
An image of her bathing, naked except for bra and panties invaded his thoughts and threw him where he didn’t want to go. Not many women were naturally sensual. This woman was. Watching her bathe by light of a lantern hadn’t been a hallucination. It was too vivid, too clear. He remembered every inch of her silken skin, the way her narrow waist curved into lean hips and long, shapely legs. His palms actually tingled as if they’d touched her soft skin. But that was ridiculous. If he’d touched her he’d sure as hell remember it.
He did remember the bruises that marred her flesh. Even now there was a dark ring around her slender neck. He’d never been particular about a woman’s neck but hers was beautiful.
Slade swallowed hard. Gave himself a mental shake. He’d been here before. It never ended well. He didn’t need any more scars.
Buy link: http://www.amazon.com/Hard-Core-ebook/dp/B009HXH3EC/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1361227183&sr=1-1&keywords=hard+core+by+jennifer+lowery
Thanks, Ella!!
You’re welcome, Jennifer. Great excerpt, but I’d expect nothing less from you!