My guest today is Rebecca Cohen, fellow Dreamspinner Press author, writer, and beta-reader extraordinaire (okay, so she’s a fabulous writer who puts up with my not-so-perfect manuscripts!). Rebecca’s new release, Life in the Land is a wonderful and creative story about an unusual super-hero. I was so lucky to have read the first incarnation of this novella when it was still a short story and luckier still to see it grow into a lovely tale about love and (pardon the pun) rediscovering your roots.
Want to read something refreshingly different and still get your romance fix and sweet HEA? This is the story for you. So without further ado, welcome Rebecca! – Shira
I’ve always been the sort of person that enjoys playing in many sand pits. Whether it’s watching different types of movies or reading in different genres, I’ve liked to share my attention across all sorts of things. So it really wasn’t any surprise, at least to me, that when I began to write seriously I ended up writing different types of stories.
Looking at my latest release, Life in the Land, it’s a contemporary fantasy, the two before it were historical romps (The Actor and the Earl, Duty to the Crown), and the one before that, Servitude, was a high fantasy. I’ve even a short F/F story in my back catalogue. And when I look at my works in process, it’s a similar story. My next submission is likely to be the final story in my historical series, followed by a high fantasy and then a contemporary. And let’s not forget the M/F sci-fi crime novel waiting to be edited.
No wonder I picked the tag line Love through time, space and reality to represent my writing.
But I have wondered if this is right thing to do, and maybe I should settle down and concentrate on one type of story – try and build a brand and a following. But in reality, this just isn’t an option for me. I’d get bored, my mind would wander and I’d be left with folders full of WIPs, starting one after another but never having the impetus to finish.
I accept that this means that people won’t like everything I write. That maybe some of my stranger plot lines and approaches aren’t going to be to everyone tastes. For example, Life in the Land is written in five parts, they jump into time to show progression rather than a complete narrative, and I know this won’t work for some people. And that’s before I mention the catcalling carrots!
So what I guess I’m saying, is I’ve embraced the idea that I write different things, and I happy that I do. My future writing is only going to get more diverse, and I hope my readers will follow me on my writing journey. I don’t have a road map, but perhaps they’ll enjoy my experimentation as much as I will.
Rebecca Cohen is a Brit abroad. Having swapped the Thames for the Rhine, she has left London behind and now lives with her husband and baby son in Basel, Switzerland. She can often be found with a pen in one hand and a cup of Darjeeling in the other.
Life in the Land
The magic of the Sawyer family’s extremely green thumbs comes straight from the land. But Bobby Sawyer’s expected superpowers don’t become a reality until he kisses his best friend, Mike Flint. That kiss moves the earth—literally.
When Bobby moves to the city, leaving Mike behind, Bobby keeps his green thumb nimble by working in a garden center and uses his superpowers to help fight crime. He’s on a mission when a bomb explodes, leaving him seriously injured, forcing him to return to the family farm—the source of his strength—to recuperate.
While attempting to recover, Bobby realizes Mike is still the love of his life. But Mike is leery: Bobby left him once before. What if all Bobby needs is one more magical kiss?
Short Excerpt from Land in the Land
The distant hum of a tractor’s engine and a few notes of birdsong were the only noises, and once again Bobby’s chest filled with heart-clenching disappointment. His eyes prickled, and he tried to hold back the tears, but he couldn’t. Large, wet tracks raced down his cheeks, and he leaned forward and rested his head and arms on his knees as he sobbed, pent-up disappointment and salty worries splashing into the soil.
“Please don’t cry, Bobby.”
Mike’s eyes were large and imploring, and Bobby was so miserable at his lack of progress that he just wanted something to hold on to. He leaned forward and tentatively brushed his lips to Mike’s in the gentlest of kisses. With a soft sigh, Mike kissed back in the same chaste way.
There was a tremor beneath him, a mild shake that made his whole body vibrate. They sprang apart, both staring wide-eyed at the dirt as they tried to work out what could be causing the disturbance.
Bobby’s jaw dropped. Before his eyes two of the large roots pulled themselves free of the ground, clods of soil falling from the delicate rootlets as they reached out to him.
With an undignified yelp, Bobby fell backward and scrambled away, but a soft rumble from the oak made him stop. It was reassurance, a call for calm, and he knew then everything was okay.