Well, maybe not "anything."
Nick is a former-artist-turned-contractor who designed and built his own house (with the help of an architect friend, of course). What this means for me is that I get to spend some time watching Rehab Addict and researching suburbs of Boston to figure out where exactly he lives.
And now that I think about it, I should probably find some photos to help paint a picture of the house, Nick, Serran, the town, etc. In fact, I should probably do that with *all* of my novels. Good plan. Adding that to my to-do list.
How about an excerpt? :)
When Nick Enfield saw her from across the room, his chest constricted immediately. She had the exact body type he went for: wide hips, round ass, long legs, a little meatier. Too many women these days were starving themselves to be thin, but what was the fun in that? He liked a woman with curves. This one had smaller breasts than he normally went for, but that was okay too. There was something sensual in her movements, though it was unconscious on her part. She had full, rosy lips and a round face. A severe black bob that must’ve been dyed, he realized, because her eyebrows were several shades lighter. She was sitting behind a folding table, signing books. What kind of books, he couldn’t see. He hadn’t even realized there would be an event at the bookstore tonight; he’d simply popped in on a whim to pick up something to read in bed. Something light, to keep his mind off the approaching storm.
He had to meet her. He had to talk to her, to hear her voice, to see the expression in her eyes.
This story constantly surprises me. Take the excerpt above, for example. I did not expect this story to start from Nick's point of view. And yet there it is: the first two paragraphs of the book, definitely told from his pov.
Words written: 10,786 (goal = 50,000).