Friday Free For All- Meet author Mimi Barbour!

Help me welcome talented author, MIMI BARBOUR. She's brought her acclaimed novel, TOGETHER AGAIN. And...........she's talking everyone's favorite subject -- or maybe for some, their least favorite -- LOL.......Sex! What do you do when asked how you came up with ideas for your latest sex scene?

Thanks for being here today, Mimi! Take it away:)

Sex scenes…

     Have you ever had a friend or an acquaintance sidle up to you, and in a quiet, sneaky way ask you how you come up with the sex scenes in your novels? At first, when my initial book came out, I felt slightly embarrassed by these questions and tended to turn red, stutter, giggle inanely and whisper that it was expected in a love story.

     And it is! Isn’t it? I’ve read romance since a particular body function marked me as a woman (ahem!) and back then (way back then…sigh!) the sexual content was mostly a lot of mooning looks followed with a chaste kiss, ending with hands held as the hero and heroine walk off anticipating a bright and happy future.

     We’ve come a long way since then – thank the Lord – and I, for one, am glad. Now, when two lives intertwine through all the conflicts and plot twists, us readers know that if we keep reading, we’ll be present at the ultimate moment.  And why shouldn’t we be? After all, hasn’t the author twisted us up in her character’s emotions? Taken us on the journey where two people can’t keep their hands off each other? So don’t we deserve the satisfaction of a play-by-play description of how well the beautiful, slim, gorgeous-haired, sexy-eyed heroine has succumbed to the tall, dark, strong, handsome hero? I say it’s only fair.

     Therefore, when people ask me today how I come up with my sex scenes, I usually laugh confidently and wink. “Oh, I select some memories; add in a shot of fantasy, then a smidgen of wishful thinking, and a whole lot of imagination and voilà.”  

     What I keep to myself is that when I first begin to write these scenes, I string it out for as long as I can so that when I edit it sometime later, there’s enough to satisfy anyone who feels as I do – cheated without a good descriptive mind-picture after all that darn foreplay.

   

     How do you deal with these kinds of questions? And does it matter who asks: man, woman, mother, friend, or stranger?

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BLURB:
Traveling forward in time, Dani Howard's spirit becomes magically united with reporter Troy Brennan. He's everything a girl could want in a man, and during their time together, she falls deeply in love. Though she must return to her own pregnant body, she gains his promise to come to her birthday party in seven days time where they will meet in person and continue their romance. Except that for her it’s 10 years.
Troy can't believe he's fallen for a sixteen-year-old spirit invader. He's so infatuated that when renowned author, beautiful Ellie Ward, comes on to him, as attractive as he finds her, he's honor bound to stay true to his young love—or is he? And why does she seem so darn familiar?
EXCERPT:

“So this is what the inside of the pub looks like. I’ve wondered.”

“Why would you care?”

“Being it’s a sanctified adult area, all kids want to know what goes on here. Some of my mates got phoney cards and have tried to get in, but they were I.D.ed and thrown out.”

“And so they should be. It’s no place for youngsters.”

“I’m a youngster. I’m here.”

“Yeah! But you’re with me, and if there’s any nonsense going on you shouldn’t see, I’ll close my eyes.”

Erupting giggles tickled him. He lowered his head and stared at the beer-foamed glass in his hand so no one could see the silly grin fighting to appear on his face.

Dani, the bane of his existence, made him laugh more than anyone else he’d ever known. And she was only sixteen years old.

“I’m not a child, you know. And I’m almost seventeen.”

“So tell me, Miss Methuselah, how did you get inside me? Are you ever going to explain? I’m thinking to take out a long-term lease if you’re planning to homestead.”

She teased right back.” You’ll have to co-sign for me, ‘cause I’m underage.”

“Whoa! I’ve never met anyone who can play the age game better than you. You’re an adult when it suits you, but reverting back to childhood when you feel the need doesn’t bother you at all.” He loved hearing her cheeky laughter, but not nearly as much as he liked the warmth flooding over his internal self. Exuberance filled him, and he had to admit to getting hooked on the high.

“You are so easy, Troy. I’m gonna hate to leave you. But I guess I’ll have to, since tomorrow’s Saturday, and that’s the day we’ll be able to undo the switch. Right. Here goes—and don’t interrupt, no matter how silly it seems. The fact is – well, it really is the rose bush.”

“You’re still trying to feed me that baloney. The rose bush! I thought we settled that subject. Next you’ll be saying it’s magical.”

“It is.” Her voice strongly emphasised the last word.

He filtered through his senses systematically. And was forced to accept one thing. She was telling the truth. A magic rose bush! “Holy cow!”

“According to my uncle’s notes, if I understood them correctly, and I think I did, I read them twice and—”

“Dani...”

“Right! He’ll have my body near his rose bush—the one I pricked my finger on, at precisely twelve noon each Saturday until the changeover occurs to get me back there. He’ll prick my finger in hopes that you will also prick yours at the same time. He knows I’m aware of the magic and how it works, because he’ll know I read all his notes about a similar case he investigated last year. I accidentally knocked them off his table, the notes that is, and probably didn’t get them back in their correct order. It’s what started this whole thing.”

“And you’re sure it’ll happen?”

“No. But it’s what I gathered from going through his papers, and it worked for two other women who had the same experience.”

“Great! Tomorrow! We’ll be there early.”

****

He had hurt her feelings.

     She shut herself off, hiding away so he couldn’t feel the devastating ache that clutched at her and made her gasp. Tears, a physical reaction to release overwhelming pain, weren’t available to her. Emotions too advanced for a young girl tore away rose-coloured glasses, wounding, maturing. Her almost seventeen-year-old psyche had started connecting to him in a way that confused her. Every moment she’d shared his life, little bits of her soul had shifted to him until there wasn’t much left he didn’t own.