Vivianne's Rachel takes the floor

Viviane Brentanos

Vivianne, before Rachel takes the floor, please will you tell us a little more about yourself?
I was born in Reading Uk in 1958. My father is English and my mother is French although there is a strong vein of Spanish on my maternal grandmothers side. I was educated at various schools before completing Sixth Form College at St Peter's Huntingdon. I somehow managed to collect A levels in English, French and History and I subsequently won a place at Sheffield University where I decided to read Classical Civilization. Once there, however, I decided that I had had enough of the academic life; I found the student mentality rather false and having been brought up in student circles, rather boring. Much to my mother's horror, I gave up my studies and went to London to begin a course as a Canine Beautician.

In 1984, my first husband and I parted ways amicably and I decided to visit the Ionian island of Corfu to celebrate my new freedom. It proved to be a life-changing decision. I still remember to this day, sitting in a café-bar, overlooking the crystal clear azure sea and saying to my friend. "I never want to leave here". And here, I still am. I am now married again, to a Greek, Alexander {not the Great}, and I have two teenage children, 2 dogs and 4 cats and a lion-head white rabbit masquerading as my literary agent. I absolutely love the life-style here. I would recommend it to anyone.

Blurb:
Daniel Haynes has the world at his feet- fame, fortune, so why does he feel so empty inside? What is his interest in Rachel Warner, a girl from a quiet Home Counties English town? Why does she hold the key to his happiness?

But Rachel Warner is scared. Daniel's interest in her threatens her ordered yet unsatisfying life because she has to live with the shadow of her ex-father-in-law breathing over her shoulder. Can she let go of her fears?

Rachel
Oh hello,
You just caught me on a coffee break. It’s been a helluva morning. Late for work, files not where they should be and the early arrival of yet another rock band on the executive floor. I met them all earlier. Typical lot, except their boss and singer, Daniel Haines unnerved me a tad but not as much as his PA, some intense Japanese Kill Bill wannabee called Mai.

But back to this Daniel. I really don’t know what is going on with him. He is one weird guy, the weirdest famous person - guest I have ever met. He waltzed into my office as if he owned it and proceeded to interrogate me about my marriage – or should I say, failed marriage. Strange, really. I got the impression he really cared which is completely nuts. Why on earth would Daniel Haines mega star be interested in me? Okay, I am not quite on the scrap heap but I might as well be. My lovely ex and his father make sure of that. I have to live my life like a nun. It’s worth the sacrifice because I will not risk losing my son Alexander to them but I digress.

So back to Daniel. Yes, he is drop dead gorgeous, the best thing since sliced bread, if my mad Irish friend Lynn, is to be believed. He is also very intelligent, well spoken and obviously comes from old money. It is odd. I feel this strange connection to him. Am I attracted to him? I think you’d have to be a nun not to be but my feelings scare me. I have no business being attracted to him. I don’t belong in his world and it’s too dangerous to let him into mine. Alright, I hear you; I am an emotional coward but if you knew my story you would see I have no choice. He wants me to go to his show. I have two complimentary tickets burning a hole in my pocket. I can’t go, of course – or can I? Should I? Oh what the hell. It’s only a music gig and it is not as if he’s Death Metal or anything and I doubt my ex will find out and this Daniel will be gone in two days so no harm done….you think?

Excerpt:
The lights dimmed again and a crescendo of noise crashed over her head as fifty thousand people leapt to their feet and Daniel’s band ran out on stage.

“Come on!” Grabbing her by the hand, Lynn dragged Rachel from the comfort and security of her seat and plunged her into the screaming multitudes already surging up against the metal barrier. It was okay for Lynn. Years of rugby scrumming with her huge Belfast shipyard brothers and cousins stood her in good stead. She pushed and clawed her way to the front with Rachel clinging to her hand for dear life. Before she could scream an angry protest, a massive tsunami roar erupted and Daniel stepped out on stage.

In the midst of the Brazilian wave of fans, Rachel found she could not move. This man who strutted and danced from one end of the stage to the other, working the crowd, playing and teasing the girls into a frenzy as he smiled down, flirting, seducing the adoring audience into a state of near-hysteria—this was not the same man who, hours before, had been in her office, sitting at her desk, drinking coffee and listening to her trials and tribulations. As she watched him now, the worshipped idol of thousands, it all seemed like a dream.

He approached the edge of the stage and for one heart-stopping moment he seemed to stare right at her. A warm flush spread up from her toes to the roots of her hair. At her side, Lynn, in a state of near collapse, jumped up and down, screaming and twisting Rachel's arm. “Did you see that?”

Above the pounding beat of drums and guitars, Rachel just about made out her ravings.

“He looked at me! Oh, I think I'm going to have an orgasm.”

For the next hour, Rachel was pushed prodded and kicked (more often than not by Lynn). She was desperate to get back to her seat. It was impossible. Wedged tight against the barrier, hordes of screaming girls hemmed them in. With hands stretched up, they cried out for their god to touch them.

By now the Golden Boy had removed his leather jacket—much to the collective joy of thirty thousand or more females—displaying a toned torso beneath a tight-fitting, V-neck T-shirt that didn't quite meet hipster jeans: black naturally! Lynn retrieved a pair of her weeniest knickers from her pocket.

“You dare, Lynn Hudson!” Rachel shrieked in her ear. Grabbing the scrap of black lace, she stuffed it back where it came from.

“You are so not fun! Everyone does it. Oh, I can't believe it!” She dug her nails into Rachel's by now black and blue arm. “This is my favorite.”

So far every song had been her ‘favorite.’ Lynn could still do groupie with the best of them.

Slowly Rachel relaxed, caught up in the magic of Daniel Haines. The lights dimmed and when he moved to sit at a magnificent grand piano, her enjoyment turned to rapture. He mesmerized her. His fingers flew over the keys and the cacophony of noise abated. Hushed silence filled the auditorium. He held the crowd spellbound as his beautiful but powerful voice delivered a haunting ballad. The hairs on the back of her neck lifted when the pure notes soared up into the roof. She wanted to cry. She wanted to stay in the moment forever.

All too soon the romantic interlude ended and the crowd let out a roar of appreciation when the pony tailed guitarist let rip with the opening riff of “Never You.”

“Now it’s definitely my favorite,” Lynn gasped, by now well and truly “Lost in Music.”


My links:
http://corfu-author.tripod.com

http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Viviane-Brentanos-Author-of-Womens-contemporary-Romantic-fiction/78109311746

http://myspace.com/chicholina

http://viviane-brentanos.blogspot.com

http://museithotpublishing.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=68&Itemid=82

Please come back tomorrow and hear what Lynn has to say.

Please welcome Vivianne Brentanos for the next four days

Hi Vivianne, thank you for joining THoR for the next few days. Please will you tell us why writing is so improtant to you?
In 2005,I was diagnosed with Breast Cancer - for the SECOND time in 5 years. It is when you are faced with your own mortality that one begins to put one's life into perspective. Thankfully, God was yet again on my side and I am now in full remission. But I decided that there was more to me than being a mother {although, I hasten to add, it is a worthy assignment.} I decided to finally get my head down and do what I'd always promised myself; I was going to finish a novel. I have been writing romance since my early teens, mostly for my own satisfaction and for my friends but now I really want to work at it.

Writing has become my passion. I have always been a "romantic", often accused of not living in the real world but who wants to do that? I like to call my work romance with a quirky, humorous Brit twist and I am always striving to make my characters real, characters we can all relate to. I am a member of Romance Writers of America and of the LA chapter LARA. I still fly back to the UK at least twice a year - especially if Darren Hayes {my other passion} is performing but I have to say that my heart is now in Greece. I suppose with so much Mediterranean blood flowing through my veins, I didn't stand a chance against this magical Island. The imaginary island of Kuros - featured in DreamWeek and Fragile Dreams - has been inspired by my beloved Corfu and I hope it will inspire you all to visit.

My day job is Hotel Receptionist. Think Fawlty Towers and you will get the picture.

Over the next few days I'd like to introduce you to the characters Cold, Cold Heart.

Today, let me introduce you to Daniel...

Hi there,

My name is Daniel Haines but, I suppose if you are reading this, you already know that. Please, I don’t want to sound conceited but no point in pretending. I am a world-famous mega star of the music industry – at least that is what my loyal entourage and fans tell me. I have it all: money, fame, the world at my feet. I ought to be happy – but I am not. You see, I crave something that has eluded me for years: love-or to be precise – the love of one woman.

So here I am, sitting in my hotel room, surrounded by my band and team, all of us kept under control by my ever efficient, loyal but sometimes annoying P.A, Mai. Tonight, I will perform in front of thousands of devoted fans in the first gig of my UK tour. I am ready, of course; I always am. I pride myself on being the consummate professional but sometimes it is hard to remain focused…like now. You see, I have seen her…my love, the one person who would make my life complete. I have waited so long for this moment but now it is here, I don’t know how to react, how to handle it. She is like a frightened bird, cautious, ready to fly away. I don’t blame her. She has no idea that I care for her. I don’t think she wants me to care for her. Her life is in turmoil. I want to tell her how I feel but part of me is scared she will reject me and then, of course, common sense kicks in. What right do I have to insinuate myself into her already complex life? Am I being selfish? I have to think not. I love her. I want to protect her from all of the challenges facing her but I know she is an independent woman. Will she let me in?

And then, there is Alexander, her son. She loves him more than life itself. I don’t know too much about his relationship with his father but I have learned enough to understand he depends on his mother for so much. This woman…she believes her ex-husband is just waiting to snatch the boy from her care. A relationship with me would give him ammunition to use against her but I am jumping ahead of myself. First, I have to win her trust and then, hopefully, her love. Oops, time to go. Mai is breathing fire.

Talk soon,

Daniel Haines


Blurb:
Daniel Haynes has the world at his feet- fame, fortune, so why does he feel so empty inside? What is his interest in Rachel Warner, a girl from a quiet Home Counties English town? Why does she hold the key to his happiness?

But Rachel Warner is scared. Daniel's interest in her threatens her ordered yet unsatisfying life because she has to live with the shadow of her ex-father-in-law breathing over her shoulder. Can she let go of her fears?

Excerpt:
“You are not having a good day, are you?”

She sat up, ramrod-straight. Daniel Haines leaned against the open door, his arms folded and gaze fixed on her, probing once more.

“Do you always eavesdrop on private conversations?” Rachel rubbed at her eyes, grateful she'd been in too much of a hurry to bother with mascara.

“The door was open,” he replied in that Yankee tone. “I apologize….” He made a point of knocking loudly. “May I come in?”

Without waiting for her answer, he walked into the room, sat down in the chair on the other side of her desk and stretched out long legs before crossing them at the ankles.

“Make yourself at home…I would,” Rachel muttered. She pulled herself together. He was, after all, a hotel guest and a very important one at that.

For one long moment, he did nothing but stare at her, an unfathomable expression on his face. Then he said quietly, “You shouldn't allow him to intimidate you, you know.”

At first Rachel thought she'd misheard him. “Are you always so presumptuous?” she managed to blurt out.

“No.” He smiled at her. “I'm only concerned.”

A frisson of unease ran down her spine.

He leaned across the desk. “Actually, I've come to apologize for Mai. She can be real possessive at times.”

“Possessive?” Rachel tried not to laugh. “Obsessed more like. I mean I know she's beautiful and probably very obliging, but how can you stand to be smothered like that?”

“Excuse me?” He sat up. “Now who's being presumptuous?”

Guilt caused her cheek to grow hot. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply….”

He waved her apology aside. “Forget it. You are free to think what you want. As I said, I'm here because I believe my crew treated you with less than professional courtesy. Sometimes the guys get carried away. Try and understand. It's hard being cooped up in hotel rooms for weeks on end.”

Rachel couldn't hold back her grimace. Here it comes, the I'm-so-misunderstood-my-life-is-not-my-own sob story. She'd heard it a hundred times over and usually following a night of drunken excess and loutish behavior that prompted a host of complaints from the hotel cleaning staff.

“Interesting.” The smile disappeared. “You're skeptical. Are you judging me? You see me as an underworked, overpaid, and probably oversexed musician. I don't impress you much, do I?”

Her mouth fell open at the astute appraisal.

“You don't know anything about me, Miss…or is it Mrs.? I seem to recall a child being mentioned.”

Rachel’s hackles went back up. “It doesn't state anywhere in my job description that I have to discuss my personal life with the guests, Mr. Haines. I….” The words died in her throat. Reaching out to her, he pushed aside a lock of hair that strayed from her ragged chignon. Warm fingertips brushed against her cheek. She shrank back, her reaction born out of habit and her dislike of physical intimacy. She only felt comfortable hugging and touching Alex.

“Please.” His tone caressed. “Call me Daniel.”

“No.” The word left her lips before she had time to think. “I…I couldn't. It wouldn't be professional.” She looked away, heat creeping up her neck and rising to her cheeks. To her relief, he sat back, arms folded.

“You are so wound up.” Amusement etched tiny lines around his eyes. “You do need to chill.”

“I am perfectly 'chilled,' thank you.” She sniffed, more than a trifle irked.

“I think not. You're stressed. I can tell.”

“Mr. Haines, just why exactly are you here?” She was in no mood for American psycho-babble. She shuffled the papers on her desk, feigning efficiency.

“If you must know….” He folded his arms behind his head and the black T-shirt rose up, affording Rachel a glimpse of well-toned, tanned stomach muscles. “I've come to return your form. I know, I could have sent Mai, but I didn't want to be responsible for a blood bath. Quite honestly, I don't know who is scarier, you or Mai. Okay, okay, stop glaring.” He made the sign of the cross. “I'm kidding. Seriously, I couldn't think of anything to write. There’s nothing I need. We are all very comfortable here. My compliments to the man.” Gaze drifting to the shelf behind her head, he sniffed the air. “However…that coffee smells real good. I've changed my mind. There is something I need. A cup of that would just hit the spot. The stuff room service delivers is pretty damn weak. You can put that in the complaints section, if you like.”

Rachel swallowed. He wanted a cup of her coffee? The entire interlude was too surreal for words.

"Do you mind?” The blue eyes probed her thoughts again. “Only if it's not too much trouble….”

“Mind? Oh…no…of course not. Excuse me one moment, please. I'll just...em...find another mug.” Dropping to her knees, she rummaged through the cupboard under her desk for an un chipped mug.

Pushing aside four years' worth of debris, she wished the green hotel uniform had a longer, not-so-tight fitting skirt.

“Having trouble down there?”

Rachel sat on her haunches, her face flushed, cream blouse in disarray. “No.” Clutching a stained cup to her palpitating chest, she got to her feet, stumbling as her thighs protested. “Milk, sugar?” She turned to the machine. By now, she felt hot and bothered and more unruly strands of hair escaped the hairpins.

“I'm hurt. Isn't it your job to know these things? Aren't you supposed to be acquainted with my every like and dislike?”

Rachel spun round, sharp retort at the ready, but then she saw the sparkle in his eyes.

He laughed at her pique. “You really don't know anything about me, do you? Oh, but don't apologize. It's really refreshing.”

My links:

http://corfu-author.tripod.com

http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Viviane-Brentanos-Author-of-Womens-contemporary-Romantic-fiction/78109311746

http://myspace.com/chicholina

http://viviane-brentanos.blogspot.com

http://museithotpublishing.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=68&Itemid=82

Please come back tomorrow when I'll introduce you to Rachel