Let’s Get to Know...
Authors have a ton of real life experiences to use as fodder for their stories. I am known for putting a real life event in each of my stories. In The Christmas Accident, my mom was really in a coma and came out of it just as it was written in the story. I am the oldest of five girls, like in the Wilder Sisters series, although none of my sisters are like any of the characters in the books.
When it came time for me to write Lucas Pigg’s story, I knew that I had to use a real life story that my accountant told me. My accountant is a fun guy. He’s lived a very full life with a ton of experiences. This one was too good not to use.
When Charles (name changed to protect the innocent) was dating this one young lady, they had been out to eat but urges became so strong that they decided to visit a hotel along the freeway for some stress relief. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
They booked a room for the night and proceeded to enjoy themselves. Suddenly, the alarms started going off. The hotel was on fire. They couldn’t leave the room because of the fire in the hallway, so they broke the window. As they stood there looking down, the young lady freaked out. Charles had to slap her to calm her down before they jumped. Luckily, they were both fine (no major injuries) but it turned out that a person tried to commit suicide by fire and ruined so many people’s nights.
Whew! Scary right? Now you can see why I needed to use it, although it’s not exactly the same in my story. I am an author and I love to take liberties with reality. So check out my book Protecting Her Pigg to see exactly how the story happens.
Strange. Jessi usually has music going or kitchen noises. It’s too quiet.
At the door to the kitchen, smoke assaulted my nose. My training kicked in. Dialing 911, I call it in. Checking the swinging door for heat, I ran my hand up and down the length then, pulling my scarf over my nose, opened the door with caution. The haze of smoke darkened the room. However, I couldn’t see a fire or flames. Going to my hands and knees, I entered the kitchen, intent on making sure no one was inside. As I moved closer to the rear of the building, the smoke doubled. Suddenly, I noticed Jessi lying on the floor in front of the rear delivery door.
I crawled to her, fear raging in my brain. “Jessi.” I shook her. “Jessi, are you okay?” She looked like a crumpled piece of trash. Running my hands up her body, I felt her chest rise and released the breath I’d been holding since I saw her. “Thank God.”
“Ooohhh. What happened?” She tried to sit up. Coughs wracked her body, and she reached out blindly before collapsing onto the floor. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”
“There’s a fire. Did you leave the oven on? Are you able to move?”
“I never leave the oven on. My head hurts.” She winced when she touched the back of her head. Her fingers came away red. “I think my head is bleeding.”
A noise behind Jessi caught my attention. A pop and then a whoosh. Flames engulfed the rear door to the alley. Frantic, I pulled Jessi toward me and the outer door. “Come on. Let me help you. We need to get out.”
Her body felt like dead weight as she tried to stand. She fell to the ground and moaned. “I can’t walk. I’m nauseous.”
The kitchen door slammed open. In shadow, a tall man strode in, looking like a hero from my favorite romance novel. My heart sped up.
“Anyone in here? The building’s on fire!” Thank God Lucas had arrived.
“We’re here. Jessi’s hurt.”
He must have followed the sound of my voice because, a moment later, he stood in front of me and then scooped Jessi up in his arms. “Put your hand on the belt on my waist. Follow me. The kitchen wall is in flames, and the smoke’s too dense for breathing.”
Reaching out, I threaded my fingers into his belt, glad for the help with Jessi and knowing, somehow, he’d make sure we’d get out.
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I'm sure you've answered this, Melissa, but how did you get your hero's last name?