Skip to main content

Holding Out For A Hero?


If you've been wondering where all the good men come from, wander over to
Choc Lit Author's Corner where we've been writing about where we find ours... Hmm, some of those good men are a tad naughty though.

Comments

Flowerpot said…
I agree about voices - Alan Rickman's voice always reduces me to jelly .....!!
Oh Chris you dear heart. As much as I would love to accept this award from you, I have made my blog award and tag-free (you probaby didn't notice my little caveat which is rather a long way down on my side bar). I just don't have the time to devote to passing them on (being the busy home based exec that I am - no really)!!

So thank you for thinking of me but I will have to pass, I will however try and visit all those other lovely blogs soon.

And I've now got the feeling I have commented in the wrong post ... this one is about hunky men right?

Jeanne xxxxx
Definitely voices - and humour - and deep brown eyes like Orlando Bloom ...!!

Jeanne x
Friko said…
right, once you've invented/created/dreamed up the perfect man (and I'll leave that to you), how long before you can deliver him in the flesh?
Can I put my order in now?
Helen Ginger said…
You know a blog called Choc Lit is gonna be good!

Helen
Straight From Hel
Fran Hill said…
Put me down for two men. It's always handy to have a spare.
HelenMWalters said…
Oh yes - voices definitely. Very important.
Ooh-er, Chris! Know what you mean about voices, though. I once had a French boyfriend who had THE most gorgeous voice. Unfortunately, he was a good four inches shorter than me, though, which was a bit tricky. (Fab on the end of a phone, though.)
Pondside said…
I had a peek at the prologue and first chapter - he looks like a very good hero!
her at home said…
Gosh and here was I thinking there were no more heroes!
Chris Stovell said…
Fp, good example!

Jeanne - very sensible!

Friko, we'll send a couple round to cheer you up. It'll make a nice change after opening your door to Norovirus!

Helen - definitely!

On their way, Fran!

Helen, good, another vote for voices!

LBD - or when your eyes were closed ;)

Pondside, thank you - and he is!!

HAH, ah, there are plenty more where those came from!
Maggie Christie said…
I know what you mean about voices too. I clearly remember hearing a man's voice once and thinking 'phwoar!' - only to be disappointed by the way he looked! But that's where fiction comes in isn't it? Matching the handsome voice with the right look.
I also have a thing about voices. (Drifts off to another world thinking about Richard Armitage - who know Santander adverts could be so appealing?)
Liane Spicer said…
I like naughty!

It's a combination, of course: the eyes, the voice, the walk... Think I'll go have a daydream now.
Lane Mathias said…
Who knew so many went for the voice.

Voices are good. Hands are important too. A hero has to have good hands ...:-)
Chris Stovell said…
Mags, such a disappointment!

Debs, I think that ad's making a lot of women very happy!

Liane... how's the day dream?!

Lane - ooh, yes! Hands! Good point!
Thanks for the post. It was very interesting and meaningful.
Android developer| Android developers

Popular posts from this blog

Happy Endings, New Beginnings

Blended families come with conflicting loyalties and at Christmas time nearly everyone has somewhere else they feel they ought to be. Throw partners into the equation and it gets even more complicated. Since Tom and I aren’t especially hung up about Christmas we’re happy to let our children go with the strongest flow, but I have to say it was a great delight to have the girls and their partners staying with us this year. When such moments are few and far between they become very precious. My stepsons weren’t far from our thoughts either, not least because we had the very happy news on Christmas Day that my elder stepson and his girlfriend had become engaged. Congratulations Dan and Gill, here’s wishing you every happiness together. Tom and I end a year that has seen the fruition of many years work, both of us crossing important thresholds within weeks of each other. I’m really looking forwards to seeing Turning the Tide published next year and it’s been so satisfying, after al

Reconnecting

I hadn't realised it until now , but it’s probably no coincidence that my last post was about our trip to Norwich, a city I’ve loved since studying at UEA. I wrote, then, that coming home was a hard landing, a feeling that took me completely by surprise as it’s been such a privilege to live in this beautiful, remote spot on the very edge of the west Wales coast. A trip to Skye at the end of October - Tom’s choice - with Ma, was a truly lovely holiday. The weather was kind, the colours of those breathtaking seascapes will stay with me, as will all the happy memories we made that week. And, because our small cottage had been so beautifully modernised and worked so well for the three of us, it was easy to imagine what it might be like to live somewhere different. If travel doesn’t broaden the mind, it certainly brings a new perspective. By the end of the year, Tom and I had decided that it was time for a change, time to move closer to a town (we are neither of us, as they say, getting

Fly Free, Dottie Do

‘How many days to my birthday?’ Ma asks. I do a quick calculation. ‘Eighteen,’ I reply. ‘Eighteen days until your ninetieth birthday.’ Ma pulls a face and shakes her head. Every sentence is hard work for her now, when each breath is a struggle. ‘You’ll have to write a book about this, you know,’ she says, with one of her quick, mischievous smiles. ‘“Carry On Dying”. Make ‘em laugh, make ‘em cry.’ The smile fades. ‘Who knew,’ she adds wearily, ‘that dying would be such a palaver?’  It’s only eleven days since Ma was diagnosed with a high-grade, aggressive lymphoma, four days since she was overwhelmed with pain and breathing difficulties and was admitted as an emergency to hospital. Until a few weeks ago, she lived completely independently; shopping, cooking, cleaning and tending her much-loved garden. The deterioration in her health is shockingly rapid. The eight days preceding her death are a living hell, a constant battle with the ward staff to get Ma the pain relief she’s been presc