My latest contemporary romantic suspense novel, The Lair, now available for pre-order, stands on its own, which means you don’t have to have read my other books to immerse yourself in the story. However, the main characters and part of the plot are connected to the other volumes in my far-reaching “Sinner’s Grove” series. Writing a multi-faceted, even genre-crossing story whose books are independent yet interwoven, poses a whole host of challenges, but for The Lair, that was only the beginning.
Characters you may already know … or not
Gabe and Dani, the hero and heroine of The Lair, were introduced to readers in Sinner’s Grove, which I call the “foundational novel” of the series because it sets up the basic storyline in both the past and the present (the past is introduced in detail in my historical romance, The Art of Love). Dani is an innkeeper in Little Eden, a village nestled by the shores of Creation Bay, just down the hill from The Grove, a world-famous artists’ retreat on the northern California Coast. Gabe is a Marin County investigator who was instrumental in solving a series of crimes that took place at the retreat during the course of Sinner’s Grove. The Lair puts Dani on a plane back to her home town of Verona, Italy, to attend the funeral of her father, a rich playboy who supposedly died in a reckless speedboat accident. Gabe, who is also Italian by birth, “tags along,” although his true motives become clear as the story progresses. I love these two characters, each of whom have serious issues that must be resolved before they can get together—that is, if they can keep from getting killed in the process! During the course of writing Gabe and Dani’s story, I decided to include a sub-plot involving another couple, Dante and Agnese, whom I felt such angst for, I just had to figure out how to help them. So, another challenge I faced was making sure their romantic sub-plot didn’t overshadow Gabe and Dani’s story.
A love letter to Verona
I set The Lair in Verona because a dear friend of mine is from that city and, being a romance writer, I wanted to pay homage to such a romantic place. One of the difficult aspects of writing about a setting that most readers aren’t familiar with is knowing how much to put in without sounding like a travel guide. How can I help the reader feel as though she is walking Verona’s streets and soaking up the atmosphere, without sinking into information overload? I had to balance the needs of the characters and the plot with my need to share my enthusiasm for the many scrumptious attractions Verona has to offer.
Take the famous balcony mentioned in Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, for example. How can I not mention that iconic site? So, I decided to filter it through Dani’s point of view and use it as a counterpoint to what she’s feeling about love:
She rounded the corner and found herself on Via Capello, at the site of the Casa di Giulietta. Juliet’s House. Oh great, she thought, that’s all I need, to be inundated with love. She walked into the courtyard with the other tourists and gazed up at the balcony which was supposedly the inspiration for the famous scene in the play. Amidst the group of visitors, a teenage couple stood next to her, dressed in matching torn jeans, arm tattoos, and lip rings. They must have been stirred by the site because they began “sucking face,” as she and Agnese used to say. Dani smirked. What if their rings got tangled? Would they have to call in the fire department? The teenagers were oblivious to passersby, and Dani realized the joke was on her. They certainly hadn’t lost their spirit. For however long it lasted, they were in love and not afraid to show it. Good for you, she thought, and walked on.
The same goes for infusing the story with “Italianness.” In earlier posts, I’ve talked about the challenge of inserting a foreign language into a story, as well as describing different customs (in this case, Italian drinking habits). Put too much in and English-speaking readers will get tired of trying to decipher what’s being said, or feel like they’re being “educated.” That’s not what I want my readers to feel because it takes them out of the story. How well was I able to balance those aspects of the novel? Readers will have to be the judge. Oh, and did I mention I also wanted this story to have a slightly Gothic feel to it? The title is The Lair, after all, and I tried to imagine what it must feel like for a woman returning to a place that scared the bejeebers out of her when she was young. I didn’t want to lay it on so thick that the mansion became a major character in the story; however, I did want the reader to feel increasingly uneasy for Dani as the story unfolds.
Keep it moving, folks
One of the advantages of writing a novel is that you have some “breathing room” in which to tell your story. You can have time pass that lessens the tension between dramatic scenes, for instance, and you can give your characters time to get to know one another to build their relationship. In The Lair, however, I didn’t have that luxury because my main characters were only supposed to be in Verona for a few days. Gabe had to take time off work, and Dani doesn’t feel comfortable leaving her inn for very long. So I had to be mindful of every minute of every day. I had to make sure events happened naturally but quickly to keep the story moving, without cramming too much into each day. I felt like I was writing an episode of “24”! This is where detailed timelines are critical. Unless the genre is science fiction or fantasy, it’s pretty disturbing to have characters zipping unrealistically from scene to scene.
Not one theme, but several
At its core, The Lair is about family loyalty in all its forms. Dani is willing to face the demons of her childhood out of respect for the elusive father she dearly loved. Gabe seeks to repay a debt he feels his family owes. Fausta, the estate manager, takes extreme measures to ensure her daughter’s future, and Santo, the family patriarch, puts family purity above everything. But The Lair also touches upon the complex theme of religion, showing how faith can both cause anguish and provide strength in troubled times. I also delve a bit into the phenomenon of “false memories,” which I talked about in an earlier post. I find it fascinating that a person can be tricked into “remembering” something that never happened, and I decided to turn that concept upside down: what if you remembered an event that everyone around you —everyone you trust—said didn’t happen? Wouldn’t that make you feel just a little bit crazy? That is certainly how Dani feels at the beginning of the story.
Finally, on a more physical level, the novel addresses the very real problem of human trafficking. I imagined a scenario within the luxury hotel industry; sadly, in reality, hotel workers are often victims of the international sex trade.
You can see I had to spin quite a few plates when writing The Lair. In the end, all that matters is that you find it a good read. I hope you do. Let me know what you think.