This week was chock full of drama on my end, real and imagined, and I’ve been feeling rather violent lately. I’m talking breaking out the Vaseline and razor blade, pulling off the hoop earrings…that type of violent. I’m a Brooklyn girl, we’re scrappers. We bring it.
I love a violent heroine, don’t you? One who kicks all kinda ass with her heels and her wits. Shiver. Oh, how I love violence—uh, I mean a violent chick. Love. Love.
In my novel, A Wicked Ride, the heroine Sasha Forde is a violent chick. Guns, knives, heels. Name it, the bitch done cut/crushed somebody with it. In one of the WIPS I recently completed, my heroine is a killer with some rather extraordinary abilities. She can even kill you with her mind, but she’s in love with guns and sharp, shiny blades.
Sensing a pattern? Yeah, it’s just my way of working out my violence without having to explain to the boys in blue why I did what I did, feel me? Now, there’s really no need to start worrying has Lady A done lost her ever-loving mind, freaking ship been sailed. But, you can rest assured that for now the violent streak in me is only confined to my books.
Fingers crossed it always remain that way.