Till death do us part... or it becomes too dangerous to stick around!
I love high concept historical romances. And I love an enthralling, spine tingling happily ever after. So, it was no surprise, to anyone who knew me, that I would write my own high-stakes stories, each with their own happily ever after.
And of course, I had every expectation that the words ‘they lived happily ever after’ … ‘until death do us part’ applied applicably to me in my own love story. And, in most circumstances, that may even be true. But alas, if you were to ask me about the biggest difference between my heroines and myself—I would have to say … it is bravery.
Let me paint you a picture. Unlike my heroine, Liliane who in, Closer to Sin, does not hesitate to run blindly into the face of danger to save Sin from an enemy bullet—I discovered that my devotion to my beloved husband is much more fickle, and somewhat dependent upon prevailing circumstances.
In particular, those prevailing circumstances do not include camping in a remote campsite in Zimbabwe.
Not long after our arrival at this particular campsite, the local ranger dropped by to introduce himself to our group, and advise us of the precautions we needed to take whilst we were there. His only concern was a wounded buffalo that had been sighted near the campsite earlier in the day. However, he was quick to reassure us, the noise and the light from our campfire would be sufficient deterrent.
As the night progressed the ranger’s visit was forgotten and we settled around the fire with the chirping of the crickets providing a melodic accompaniment to our conversations. In the distance only the occasional call of a baboon could be heard; the ambiance was hypnotic, and as the fire crackled my husband and I sat recounting all the highlights of the day. Around the campfire other couples were doing the same, with the quiet murmurs slowly being interspersed by ever-longer periods of silence.
I remember feeling seduced by the romance of the setting and leaning in to kiss my husband when from behind us, and with no warning, the most horrific roar violated the night. When my husband, leaning towards me, opened his eyes to see why I had not returned his kiss—I was nowhere to be seen.
In less time than it takes to say ‘I do’ I had sacrificed my husband to a pair of fighting bull elephants, hurdled the campfire and scaled a ladder into the safety of the safari truck. Alas, for me, it seems that happily ever after, comes with caveats. Nor, as it transpired that night, am I as committed to the ‘unto death do us part’bit of the wedding vows—I’m more a survival of the fittest type of gal!
Not so my heroines. Perhaps it is my own lamentable lack of courage that compels me to write strong, determined women who will flaunt convention if it means defending those they love. And of course, the perfect compliment to a strong woman, is a hero who celebrates her strength gives her the space to be woman she needs to be.
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