Today we learn why I didn’t write Trent a bit nicer.
I’m really good at training dogs.
Jess knows over thirty commands.
She’ll even leave a chicken treat alone after she’s had the chance to taste it. That’s really hard for a dog to do.
Don’t worry, I let her have the treat.
I’ve tried turning real guys into romantic heroes, but honestly, it’s never worked for me. They resist being trained. Nor do they like chicken jerky treats when they perform well.
So after several disturbing and heartbreaking events, I decided to write a book where the guy was subpar, like the ones I’ve had to deal with. Otherwise, how can I teach useful life lessons.
Such as: DON’T GET INVOLVED WITH PSYCHOPATHS.
Just because a guy says he loves you doesn’t make him Mr. Right.
To be fair, Trent’s not a psychopath and he never tries to kill Carrie. In fact, he saves her life in Worst Week Ever, so he’s far better than my ex who tried to kill me three times before I caught on. (The first two times I just thought he lacked safety sense.)
I tend to be a forgiving and tolerant person, ignoring when the guy flirts with another woman. And I’ll try very hard not to notice if he’s flat out cheating on me, but I have to draw the line when someone wants to kill me.
Most guys are just being guys, hound dogs if you will. Mother Nature tells them to procreate and be happy, and I failed to train mine to ignore Mother Nature and Leave it!
Here’s a professional trainer discussing the matter.
As the expert states, Humping is a natural inclination of males, but you should be able to train them to ‘leave it’.
Now back to my misbehaving males…
I truly believe their bad behaviors were not done to hurt my feelings. For example, when Jerk tried to kill me, he wasn’t mad at me. He just wanted my life insurance policy and that required me to be….you know…dead. I’m pretty sure he would have cried at my funeral, and then consoled himself by sleeping with a pretty blonde.
Later, when I upgraded. My soul-mate told me he’d found someone else that he might prefer over me, but he wasn’t sure, so he wanted me to stick around while he decided. Again, he wasn’t mad at me, he merely thought only of himself and his feelings.
Had I written the script for my soul-mate, he would have waited until he decided which of us he wanted and THEN let me know ONLY if he needed to vacate the bed. Otherwise, I could remain blissfully ignorant of the whole drama.
Unfortunately, that would have been inconvenient for him, so he let me know at once, allowing him to spend more time with Option 2.
I always thought these two guys were opposite ends of the spectrum: Psychopath and Nice Sane Guy, but upon writing this series, I realized they had one thing in common: both were incredibly self-absorbed and ego-centric, which meant neither had the ability to truly love anyone other than themselves.
I gave them up, but even that was a process. I had to come to reason first. That’s where the heart says
So my brain eventually took over and in both cases was appalled at the nonsense going on. Man, did my heart get a scolding!
Which I felt was a bit unfair.
If all you’ve known are crappy relationships, bad parents who hate each other, and abusive brothers, then you develop a tall ceiling of tolerance for bad boyfriends.
And we can only evaluate our future dates based on our prior ones. A jerk can look pretty good compared to an psychotic jerk.
So don’t judge Carrie too harshly. She’s in a real relationship with a different species of human. Based on her father who thinks her a blight to the family name and her one boyfriend in college who only had sex with her because his true love was far away and she was a great study partner (as she did all the work), Trent truly is the best guy she’s ever loved.
Are there other guys in her realm of existence who would be better for her? Absolutely.
Are there some who would be worse?
But none of that matters right now, because she is committed to Trent, the first guy who has ever said he loves her.
In Carrie’s perspective, she’s not settling. She’s helping Trent to reach his potential of becoming a fabulous guy.
And is Trent trainable?
Not in the opinion of the 100+ women before Carrie, but none of them had her determination, resilience, and forgiving nature.
And who is to say she’s wrong to try and fix Trent?
Honestly, if we held out for the perfect relationship, the human race would be extinct and I could have never written this story.
Fortunately, it’s not about who WE can endure, but who Carrie can make a life with. However, at some point, her brain and heart will need to align as to whether Trent is Mr. Right for her.
What do you think? Can they make a go of it, or is this a train wreck looking to happen?
(Hint: Reading Oh Stupid Heart will help you decide)
Oh Stupid Heart
Book Two of: A Long Road To Love
Humorous Contemporary Disaster Romance
Carrie Hanson is in love with a different species: Trent, a pampered, uber-rich socialite who’s also her boss. Everyone keeps telling her it’s a train wreck looking to happen, but her heart wants what it wants. So despite the billion and one reasons not to, Carrie commits to this inter-species relationship. But while she's off being trained for her new job responsibilities, a beautiful ex fiancée is working hard to get Trent back and Carrie fired.
Carrie Hanson couldn’t believe it. Her four year sex-drought was about to end. She shivered in anticipation until a sinking dread over came her. Oh God, what if I’ve forgotten what to do?
Trent pulled back from their kiss and studied her, his brow furrowed. “Are you cold?” He reached across her bed and tugged the edge of the comforter over her, tucking the fabric beneath her body so she became a human corndog.
She wiggled out of captivity and scooted across the bed, closer to him. “I’m fine. I’m just happy our horrible week is over and we can start anew. This time not as boss and an employee, but best friends who love each other.
Trent pulled her to his chest and kissed her. She opened her mouth to his and met his tongue with her own, determined to give as good as she got. His soft groan inspired her to do more.
She unbuttoned the waistband of his suit pants and slipped her hand beneath his boxers, determined to move matters along and end her drought forever. He broke their kiss and his hands captured hers.
He didn’t want her?
She turned away, mortified with shame…and confused. Why the hell had he kissed so provocatively if he didn’t want to make love to her? She tucked her head, so he wouldn’t read all the emotions bouncing about her confused head right now, but he forced her chin upward, his dark eyes somber and concerned.
“Carrie, I have screwed up every relationship I’ve ever been in. I think part of the problem is I gravitated to glamour girls with no brain and no personality, but I would have realized that if I had just taken a moment to talk to them first.”
This was the stupidest excuse she’d ever heard. “We’ve known each other for two years, in which time I’ve certainly established I’m not a glamour girl.”
He chuckled and nodded.
Her eyes narrowed and a low growl emitted from her chest. “You don’t have to be so quick to agree.”
“But you aren’t. You’re not an image of beauty, you’re the real thing. While I have no complaints about your small, but perfect body, silky long brown hair, and gorgeous green eyes, your real beauty comes from inside. When you smile I feel like I’m standing before an angel of joy.”
Now she saw where his thoughts headed. He didn’t want to make love to an angel. She recalled Elvis Presley did something this crazy. He refused to touch his wife after she bore him a child because he couldn’t make love to a mother.
She pulled her hand from his and gripped his shirt as she stared sternly into his eyes. “Do not go Elvis Presley on me. I am not an angel. I’m a small, catastrophe-prone woman who wants to make love to you.”
A Long Road to Love
Oh Stupid Heart
To Follow the 2nd Craziest Blog Tour
Oh Stupid Heart
Worst Week Ever
Liza lives in Denville, NJ with her dog Jess. They hike in fabulous woods every day, rain or shine, sleet or snow. Having an adventurous nature, she learned to fly small cessnas in NJ, hang-glide in New Zealand, kayak in Pennsylvania, ski in New York, scuba dive with great white sharks in Australia, dig up dinosaur bones in Montana, sky dive in Indiana, and raft a class four river in Tasmania. She’s an avid gardener, amateur photographer, and dabbler in watercolors and graphic arts. Yet through her entire life, her first love has and always will be writing novels. She loves to create interesting characters, set them loose, and scribe what happens.
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