Listening to your characters: A Blog by Doris O’Connor


Firstly,  a big thank you to Ella for letting me crash here today to tell you a little about my latest release Too Devious To Tame, book three in my Giovanni Clan series. Would you believe I actually started to write this book back in December 2010?

Oh yes, it’s been a long time coming. Why has it taken me so long, you might ask? Well, I’m a panster, which means I am entirely character driven. Unless those characters talk to me, nothing gets written. And Jemima and Giorgio stopped talking for a loooooong time indeed.

In hindsight, I was simply not capable of doing their story justice back then. Too Devious To Tame lives up to its name. Back then, newly pregnant and hormonal, I reached a scene in the manuscript when their relationship comes to a head, and Jemima’s past is revealed, and I simply couldn’t carry on writing—blame the hormones.

As you may have guessed from the blurb, Too Devious To Tame has a different feel to it, then the first two books in the series. All your favourites are still there, but there is a sinister threat lurking through the story, as both Giorgio’s and Jemima’s pasts threaten to destroy them. Will they make it through?

Well, you have to read the book to find out.

For now, I leave you with a little excerpt that hints at those troubles between them.



When Giorgio Giovanni tracks the troublesome Jemima down in a hospital bed in Italy, he has one thing on his mind—revenge. However, the fragile woman he encounters is not the devious female he remembers. When it becomes clear that she is in danger, he risks everything to keep her safe.

Left for dead, Jemima wakes up in hospital, terrified, and with no idea of her identity. The angry man, who comes to claim her, is the only link to a shared past she can’t remember. A past that threatens to destroy them, and all she has ever held dear.

With danger all around them, and their sexual chemistry off the scale, can they find their way back to each other, or is the past too devious to tame?



“Mothers die, cara. It just happens.”

The roughness of his voice made her look up. He had a faraway look in his eyes, his features grim, but before she could question him further, the mask came down, and the eyes assessing her were glittering, icy jewels.

“Dinner is getting cold. Time we went back in.”

She blinked at the abrupt change in conversation.

“I … I’m not hungry. I couldn’t eat a thing.”

“Tough, you need to eat. If you intend to keep on running, at least do so on a full stomach. No point in making their job easier by starving yourself to death. When did you last a have a decent meal?”

“I can’t remember.”

The sound of disgust he made, before he grabbed her by the arm and propelled her forward, made her flinch.

“You’re hurting me.”

The iron grip on her arm gentled, but he didn’t let go of her. He dragged her along the vines, back to the house, mumbling to himself in Italian. Jemima blew out a breath, and she tried to dig in her heels. 

“There is no need to manhandle me, damn it, and I will not eat anything. You can’t make me.”

The low, menacing, growl in her ear made her jump. His hot breath fanned along the sensitive skin of her neck, and her heart beat faster, and her breathing sped up.

“On the contrary, cara. I will make you eat, even I have to handcuff you to me to stop you from running away again.”

He chuckled at her outraged gasp, and the slap of her hand was far too loud in the quiet dusk, surrounding them. He didn’t even flinch, even though the force of her slap left a visible red hand-print on his cheek. He simply smiled, and Jemima inched backward and away from him. 

“You wouldn’t dare.” She whispered the words as he stalked her every move, disapproval and determination written all over his sun-kissed features. She swallowed nervously as he loomed over her, crowding her against the garden wall, they had reached without her noticing.

“What’s the matter, cara? I seem to recall you used to rather enjoy the handcuffs.” 

Slow heat spread low in her abdomen, and she bit her lips to suppress her gasp as another memory surfaced. Giorgio loomed over her in different circumstances. Excitement warred with arousal, and she screwed her eyes shut. She could hear her moans mingling with his harsh breathing, and there had been pleasure … so much pleasure.

Oh hell, why do I have to remember that?

“I don’t remember.” Her voice sounded husky and far too breathy. Damn that’s really going to convince him.

His knowing eyes raked her up and down, his smile cynical, as he stepped even closer to her, so close that the heat of his body scorched her skin. He leaned down, and she clamped her thighs together at the sensation of his breaths lifting the fine hair on her neck. A shiver went through her at his whispered, “Liar.”

He pulled back slightly, and his mouth hovered over hers for several agonizing, erratic heart beats. Their breaths mingled, and she willed him to close the distance, suddenly desperate to know what those firm lips would feel like pressed to hers. But he stepped back and released her. One corner of that sensual mouth rose in another cynical smile, and she finally took a shuddering breath. His next words brought her back down to earth with a bump.

“Don’t flatter yourself, cara. It’s only dinner I’m offering this time. I’m not the fool that I once was. Don’t make the mistake of thinking that.” For the official hawt excerpt click HERE Buy Link: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/


Author Bio:

Glutton for punishment would be a good description for Doris… at least that’s what she hears on an almost daily basis when people find out that she has a brood of nine children, ranging from adult to toddler and lives happily in a far too small house, cluttered with children, pets, dust bunnies, and one very understanding and supportive husband. Domestic goddess she is not.

There is always something better to do after all, like working on the latest manuscript and trying not to scare the locals even more than usual by talking out loud to the voices in her head. Her characters tend to be pretty insistent to get their stories told, and you will find Doris burning the midnight oil on a regular basis. Only time to get any peace and quiet and besides, sleep is for wimps.

She likes to spin sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, BDSM to F/F, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.

Find Doris on the web here:







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