I’m not what I would call a romance writer, although most of what I write has a strong female protagonist, or at the least, a strong female character. In many of my tales there is a relationship of sorts. In The Dark Lady, a medieval fantasy which came out in February 2012, the protagonist is a young girl on the verge of womanhood, with all that entails. Housetrap, a December 2012 release, and the first of a series of novellas (four so far) under The Housetrap Chronicles, is a fantasy detective tale with a male lead, but he usually finds himself surrounded by females of various hue, both supporting and villainous. In March 2013 and Knight’s Bridge, I return to a medieval fantasy setting, and yes, the leads are a man and a woman, with all the confusion that often creates. The next novel, released in April 2013, was The Queen’s Pawn. This is another medieval fantasy, about a young man and his adventures with a variety of women of different ages, mainly the mysterious Queen of the land, and her annoying daughter. Perhaps I am more of a romantic than I thought! For a more in-depth biography, please refer to my website, www.ronaldhore.com
The idea behind “SOLITUDE” came to me this summer while sailing up Lake Winnipeg during a thunderstorm. I thought, surely there is a story buried in this madness somewhere. Alone in the cockpit, while my crew, who consisted of one of my granddaughters, remained down below and nice and dry, I figured the scene could work in almost any setting: science fiction, fantasy, horror, romance. “SOLITUDE” was born from that meager beginning.
She examined Keith critically. “Just a minute.” Diving down below, she came up with a dry towel. “You are soaked. Take off that bulky coat and let me get rid of some of that surplus water.”
“I’m okay,” came out as a squeak. Still, the coat came off.
“Nonsense, you just keep driving, I will do the drying.”
He found it difficult to concentrate, and although the rain had stopped, a residue of waves meant both hands on the wheel. She dried arms, neck and face.
“Did you have an accident?” he managed to get out. “Should we be calling the Coast Guard?” How do you have an accident in a metal egg that drops from the clouds?
“No that will not be necessary.”
The sun broke through the last of the clouds. She folded her towel, placed it on one of the cockpit cushions and flopped down with a sigh, glanced up and frowned. “Why are you staring at me like that? Is something wrong?”
“Ah…” He managed a weak smile. “Your hair, just looking at your hair.”
“What is wrong with my hair?”