I’ve got heroes on my mind lately. (Fictional ones, mind you. I am happily married.)

Heroes are kind of my thing. Often I identify with the male protagonist more than the female. I like computers and fast cars, so maybe its part of my wiring, but I also like creating a unique character, building an interesting backstory and finally laying out the scenes to make a compelling story. (This instinct of control has to be pure female.)

Writing allows me to explore aspects of many types of guys, gals and relationships I choose, so I’m always interested in how other readers and writers feel about specific character archetypes. The bad boy, the conservative guy, the manly man, the cowboy, the executive or the prince. Alpha? Beta? Beautiful, rugged or average looking. Rich, poor or somewhere in between. With Harlequin’s varied lines of publication, you have a choice of any and all of them.

Since I recently agreed to a new 3-book Blaze contract, and my heroes are all over the board, I thought I’d ask your opinions about heroes you remember and love. (Call it market research.)

My guys range from the second son of an English lord, to an adventurous cowboy, then a hardened cop.

Are there certain heroes that push your buttons? Is it about a type or how a type is presented? Do some authors do it better than others? Why do you think (or not think) that’s so?

By the way, Roarke from the J.D. Robb “In Death” series is my all-time favorite, though there have been dozens of favorites over the years. I’d love to hear about your memorable characters.

Happy New Year!

I’m a big fan of champagne, so I guess New Year’s Eve should be a big night for me. Generally, though, I wind up at a neighbor’s house, consuming a glass or two of the bubbly, but almost immediately after the ball drops, I’m yawning.

There were times when I was younger that the night was more significant and wilder, but these days I find myself grateful for friends and family, making sure my kids are safe and happy.

Still, if somebody wanted to invite me to some hot nightspot where I could wear lots of sparkles and great shoes…I’d probably be there in a heartbeat. (Though it’s possible I’m simply having a hopeful delusion courtesy of the lingering affects of Burlesque.) Do you think if I had pipes like Christina Aguilera, some hot real estate guy (played by none other than Dr. McSleezy Eric Dane) would buy me a pair of crystal-encrusted Christian Louboutin shoes?

Maybe. But my husband would no doubt be annoyed. And nobody wants that kind of bang on New Year’s.

I’d love to hear how all of you are spending the big night–party, college football bowl game, movie marathon, quiet reflection at the homestead?

Whatever you choose, everything is better when you share. (D)

Hey, everyone! No, you didn’t go through a time warp and September isn’t nearly over. Candace Haven and I have swapped blog dates this month.

I thought I’d take up a classic debate about romance heroes. Alpha versus Beta.

For anybody who’s in the dark about the archetypes, the Alpha hero is commanding and powerful. At his extreme, he can be domineering, aggressive and controlling, but he can also be dark and sexy. A man who can handle any situation–as long as its done his way.

The Beta guy is kind and understanding. He’s the nurturer, the fixer. The heroine’s best friend as well as lover. Sometimes quiet, sometimes funny, he’s always there to lend a shoulder to lean or cry on. (Heroines can also be either type, but I thought we’d talk about the guys. More fun, yes?)

The most classic example I can give comes from a movie I hope you’ve seen (if not, get thee to Blockbuster pronto!) Big Night. Actor and writer Stanley Tucci plays Secondo (which literally means second in Italian) He and his brother, Primo, played by the amazing Tony Shalhoub, own an unsuccessful Italian restaurant in NYC in the 1950‘s. Secondo is the charming front man who wants to be a big success in America, but is a pushover for most of his customers, his competition and the ladies in his life. Primo cooks. He’s temperamental and focused. He’s fiercely protective of his kitchen and determined to serve what he knows are the best dishes, regardless of what the customer thinks he wants for dinner.

So Alpha and Beta in a nutshell.

Early in my writing career, I’d decided the Alpha guy was way too extreme for me. Anti-feminist, if you will. But done well, with the right author, the Alpha hero can work perfectly in a story, deliver a specific kind of fantasy experience and certainly be memorable.

My favorite Beta guy is what I refer to as the easygoing charmer. His main goal in life is having fun and a hot date with the heroine. He calmly rolls with every situation. No muss, no fuss.

For me, the best hero is a mix of the two. Strong on the surface, mushy underneath. Or, the other way around, carefree but a spine of steel when something he cares about is challenged.

Are all great heroes one or the other? Or is your favorite hero some of both? What authors do which kinds the best? Who do you remember from the recent and classic books you’ve read or movies you’ve watched?

Let the debate begin…

Memorial Day Weekend is definitely one of my favorites.

Whether my family heads to the pool or the beach, there’s always great food involved–one of my beloved pastimes is cooking. (And eating, of course.) To me, it’s also one of the best race weekends of the year. But I’ll get back to the racing in a minute.

Really, though, the weekend is about freedom.

Freedom to sun your buns or grill them. To play softball with your kids or lay on the sofa and watch movies or sports on TV. For some families, they’ll be free to visit a grave and lay flowers.

And the reason we all have those freedoms is because of our armed forces.

Lincoln referred to the dead of the Civil War as giving “the last full measure of devotion.” As human beings (not just Americans, as all countries have a way of remembering their fallen heroes), it’s natural for us to reflect. To think about the past with pride, and maybe even regret. At no time is that more important than this weekend. As busy as we all are, as unstable as the times seem to be, there are those who fight everyday to make the world a better place. And some won’t live to see the changes they sacrificed for.

Those who served in my family and my husband’s did so in the Army, Navy and Marines. Neither of us lost a loved one to war–for which we’re incredibly grateful. But they still put on their uniform and left their homes and families for far-away places, unsure of the future and praying their dedication would preserve their way of life.

Way back, many generations ago, my ancestor, John Reese (born 1809), fought for the South in the Civil War. Fast forward several generations to my mother’s father, Staff Sergeant Phillip Lankford, who was in the Battle of the Bulge. His commander was killed and my grandaddy was left to command his unit and hold his position, which he did–one of the few instances of this occurring.

I’m also proud to claim and thank Captain and Dr. Clifford P. Phoebus (a physician to the Blue Angels), Lieutenant Preston Phoebus, Jr., Commander Richard Phoebus, SEAL-team member Jim Phoebus, Sergeant First-Class Larry Dunn, Tech-Sergeant Robert Dunn, Major David Etherington, Sergeant Cynthia Etherington, and our most recent veteran, Marine Corps medic and University of Georgia Sophomore Joseph Herring, who served two tours in Iraq, one on the front lines.

By the time you read this, I’ll undoubtably be on my way to Charlotte Motor Speedway for the Coke 600. Besides those attending the race, military personnel all over the world will be honored with a flyover. And though there’s a flyover at every NASCAR event, this one is more solemn and uplifting than any of the others.

As it should be.

Enjoy your freedom this weekend–I know I will. And say thanks to someone who’s served.

I’m jumping off the topic of great fiction in book form to talk about TV, specifically a show that’s a genius in casting, character and humor.

Glee.

If you haven’t jumped on the Glee bandwagon, I’m here to grab hold of you and pull you aboard. The writers have done something very clever in that, on the surface, nearly every character in the cast begins as unlikeable.

The episodes follow a high school show choir, and the teenage mantra is–naturally–it’s all about me. (Trust me, I know this. I have two of them.) So the attitude of the young characters is both believable and interesting. In this world, though, the adults act the same way…

The show is a marvel of writing from specifics points of view, as every character acts in his or her’s own self-interest. This happens constantly, every scene, every character. There are sweet moments of sacrifice, but they’re generally few and far between, making them all the more poignant. There are cliches that work. There are despicable–yet hilarious–characters played by Jane Lynch (cheerleading coach Sue Sylvester) and Jessalyn Gilsig (Terri Schuester, wife of the glee club director). There are guest stars–Kristin Chenoweth (Wicked) and Josh Groban (“cute as a buttermilk biscuit”) being the best.

The resulting show is farcical at its core, but also real and powerful and wildly entertaining.

And I haven’t even gotten started on the the music. Broadway, pop, early rap, rock, cheesy-80‘s-that-have-become-classics (hello, Journey!). Plus a male soprano (played by the amazing Chris Colfer) who can believably sing Defying Gravity. It’s hard not to find something you’ll enjoy and possibly even love more than the original.

The single funniest thing I’ve seen in years is the episode where Kurt and supporting female cast perform Beyonce’s All the Single Ladies into his mini cam.

With all the stress and uncertainty in the world today, Glee does exactly what all of us in romance fiction strive to do–create an escape, relish a sweet moment, create the unexpected.

New episodes start April 13th, so you still have time to buy the DVD and catch up to the hilarity.

He’s portly, balding and unyielding, but Hercule Poirot—dramatized most distinctly by English actor David Suchet—is a romance hero most should aspire to.

Poirot is, of course, a consummate Agatha Christie protagonist. The Belgium detective, a refugee of WW I, starred in thirty-three Christie novels and many more short stories. The British TV series that brought those mysteries to light is beautifully set in the art deco era of Europe in the 1930’s. Find these gems. Buy them; rent them. Whatever you have to do.

If my hero is having a Alpha-male moment (which, let’s face it, all romance heroes are prone to do), if his temper or ego is driving his actions, I find myself wondering, what would Poirot do? How would he charm the lady? How would he smoothly turn the conversation to his advantage? How would he get the deed (whatever that deed happens to be) done?

He’s consummate in his manners, methodical in his approach to his work and complete in his respect of everyone, especially women. He holds them on a pedestal (something a modern hero or two could take note of). He flatters them, respects their opinions and reveres their beauty and style.

Of course Poirot also has a significant touch of OCD, is fussy, self-congratulatory and certainly too effeminate for modern tastes. But, oh, that brain! Clever, intelligent, quick and decisive.

Christie was certainly a woman who knew that a man’s worth lay in the depth of his character and not necessarily the breadth of his shoulders.

I was talking with some friends at the gym the other day about reality TV. (Yes, I’m a gym rat, mostly due to a common aliment I’m sure many of you also suffer from—I like to eat.) I’m normally a big fan of programming where there’s actually a writer (The West Wing being my favorite classic), but I do watch the Bravo reality shows—Real Housewives of… (insert your favorite city here), Top Chef, etc. So these gals at the gym thought it would be awesome to have The Secret Lives of Romance Writers.

Ha! As my fellow Blaze writers will attest, that is not Must-See TV. My day involves typing. Sometimes I pause on the keyboard to think, look up a word in my thesaurus, Google something. If I’m really stumped with writing a scene, I might throw in a load of laundry or go to the fridge for a Diet Coke. Compare that to overturning a table at a dinner party, drinking tequila until you throw up or skinning an eel, and you can certainly see why any show about writers is not forthcoming to a channel near you.

I tell this to the gym folks, and they laugh and wink, like I’m downplaying my glamorous life. The guys think my husband is a serious stud, since he’s obviously the test subject for all my love scenes. (I must admit I don’t disabuse them of this idea, since my poor husband needs to get some benefit from the moodiness that generally comes with having a writer for a wife.) The women think I spend my days interviewing potential cover models and flying on book tours all over the country.

Not to say that my publishing career hasn’t offered me many wonderful opportunities. The top of the list is hanging out with fun, interesting, creative people. Plus, I’ve traveled to a lot of great cities—NYC, Chicago, DC, San Francisco. I’ve gone to some cool parties—the Harlequin party at the Waldorf-Astoria in NYC comes particularly to mind.

Mostly, though, I create stories that you’ll hopefully want to read to escape from whatever craziness your life involves. And that simple agenda is fine with me. Sometimes it’s a struggle, sometimes it’s a rush, but it’s what I do.

No tequila or TV cameras required.

9:30 a.m. – LaGuardia Airport
While my life normally consists of writing on my laptop in my kitchen, transporting teenagers to dance/cheerleading rehearsals and keeping my crazy Shih Tzu, Cody, out of trouble, today I’m actually doing something exciting. I’m in New York, attending the Book Expo America convention!

As clichéd as it is, I love New York. The sights, sounds and smells blend and contrast like nowhere else in the world. I’ll be signing books tomorrow afternoon, but until then my buds Jacquie D’Alessandro and Jennifer St. Giles will be joining me in shopping, people watching and, of course, eating.

So, as I go along with my day, I’ll add updates, so you guys feel like you’re on the trip, too. (Sorry, frequent flyer miles aren’t included.) I’ll check in again once we get to the hotel.

11:00 a.m. – Sheraton Times Square
Times Square is, as always, crazy with crowds. Despite what you may have heard, the economy seems to be rolling along here. (Or at least the counterfeit designer bag business is.) We walked over to Maxie’s famous deli and had sandwiches that were waayyy too big, but yummy anyway.

12:30 p.m. – Shopping 5th Avenue
We walked down 5th and looked in the windows of all the high-end boutiques. Cartier, Ferragamo, Bergdorf Goodman, etc. and wound up in Henri Bendel. This Manhattan institution of cosmetics, accessories and casual clothes is always packed with make-up artists who claim to transform you into a new woman with all kinds of lotions and potions. Amazingly, they usually succeed, which is why our credit cards got a serious workout.

5:00 p.m. – Back to the room
Recuperation time. Put the feet up, take showers (though careful ones, so as to not mess up the new make-up job), water break and calling home to talk to the kids. The dog is on another hunger strike. He does this frequently, even though I heat up his food in the microwave to coax him. My husband puts down the food and commands “Eat!” This, much to my frustration, usually works. So, no fear, the strike won’t last long.

7:30 p.m. – Joe Allen’s Restaurant
Out with fellow Blaze Babe and Manhattan resident Hope Tarr. Fantastic food. Fantastic company. A little wine, a lot of laughs. And the pillow is calling, so off I go…

Sleep well,
Wendy

Unfortunately, I’m having a hard time blogging today about happily ever after.

Some of you may know that besides my exciting life as a Blaze Babe, I also write NASCAR-themed books for Harlequin. On Monday afternoon the NASCAR world abruptly lost Charlotte Observer reporter David Poole to a heart attack. And while many of you may not know or care anything about stock car racing, I’d like you to be aware that a powerful voice has been silenced forever.

This tragedy has me thinking about the amazing voices we have in romance—Nora Roberts, Susan Elizabeth Phillips, Jayne Ann Krentz and Betina Krahn to name a few of my favorites. I have many friends and fellow Blaze writers who are talented and brilliant writers, people I appreciate for who they are as well as the stories they tell.

With all the chaos and unexpected turns in the world, I’m comforted by the idea that I can pick up a book by a writer I respect and find a few hours of escape and inspiration. And while there are days I feel joyless and drab, I can turn to both writing and reading fun and sexy stories when life isn’t so hot.

On that positive note, I can share that I’m working on a Blaze I’m really excited about. When my editor and I sat down in San Francisco last year and brainstormed my next few books, her advice was to keep going with my fiction island setting of Palmetto Island, SC and the cast of characters I introduced in After Dark (January 2009). So, back to the island we go…

I love writing about my homeland—The South. (And, yes, it’s in caps for a reason.) There was a time in my life when I was self-conscious…yes, folks, even embarrassed about my accent and background. And while those of us with a drawl have reason to regret some of the choices of our ancestors, our culture isn’t something we can deny. Even if we wanted to.

Often, I turn to food when I’m stressed. (Accounting for the extra ten pounds on my ass most of time.) It’s odd that I’d already planned to recreate my grandmother’s classic chicken and rice recipe for dinner tonight. Something inside me apparently knew I’d need the comfort.

So, I’m striving to write while I cook and listen to my Sirius radio (locked, obviously, on the NASCAR channel). I hear lovely stories of a man I actually never met, though I exchanged a few e-mails with him, I read his articles and blogs every week and listened to his radio show every morning.

I hope bringing you into my world today hasn’t been too melancholy. Like many of my fellow Blaze Babes, I’ll be here once a month, and I’m sure I’ll be back to my normal, sarcastic self when I post again.

In the meantime, I try to imagine my fellow Southerner David Poole in heaven, gathering the lost legends of the sport for an interview and giving all the angels something to talk about.