Welcome to Sugarbeat’s Books – The Home of the Romance Novel
Today we are welcoming E. M. Tippetts to the blog! She is the author of several books, including her latest, Someone Else’s Fairytale. I must admit, I asked for a copy of this book and I’m about half way through. I’m really enjoying it!! Stay tuned for a review in the future! I hope you enjoy her post and I hope that you give some thought to picking up a copy of her book!
Grab a coffee and sit back and enjoy E.M.’s post!
Crafting a Fairytale
by E.M. Tippetts
I had spent weeks wracking my brain for a novel concept I could get excited about. It seemed like every sweet story with a happy ending had been told already, and I reminded myself that I didn’t have to let that stop me. New writers have breathed life into old tropes before, but I just wasn’t feeling it. It was in a moment of exasperation that I hit upon my idea. I was skimming entertainment headlines and thinking about how so many women seemed to think that meeting and dating a famous guy would be a modern fairytale come true. Ridiculous! I thought. If I got hit on my an actor, I’d be annoyed, and not just because I’m already married. Who wants to deal with all the insanity that a famous person deals with? And there it was. My new novel idea. What if, I thought, I had a modern woman who isn’t looking for a fairytale, and then I bring in a Hollywood actor who worships the ground she walks on.
Soon all sorts of funny situations and scenes popped into my head. He’d have hordes of adoring fans, but she wouldn’t care. Millions of women would die to be in her shoes, but that also doesn’t affect her. In fact, she find the actor more than a little annoying, so when he tries to do things that would make any other woman swoon, my main character would just roll her eyes and walk away.
But this is, obviously, still a very one dimensional idea. Since I wasn’t interested in writing a farce, I had to dig a little deeper. I thought about fairytales, how much I loved them as a child and how they seem out of place in modern times. While most women wouldn’t turn down a handsome prince, we don’t tend to do the damsel in distress thing anymore. A modern woman is capable of slaying her own dragons and would most likely get around to it before any anonymous hero came calling. So did this mean fairytales are no longer relevant?
That made no sense to me. Fairytales still speak to us, or else we wouldn’t know what they were these days. They’d have gone the way of Odes and Greek epics. Sure, we still know what those are, but they aren’t as much a part of our modern literature and entertainment as our classic fairytales. So why do we still love the fairytale ending? What is it about the way it plays out that makes us yearn to read or watch it again and again?
That is the question I tacked in this novel. If my heroine doesn’t dream of being rescued, is there anything any man can do to turn her head? Is it possible for him to find a way to carry her off in the sunset without diminishing her as a mere prop in his heroic feats? I think there is. I think my main character does find her Prince Charming, and I think you’ll enjoy the journey she takes in the process.
Someone Else’s Fairytale is about Chloe Winters, a senior in college and her own woman, and Jason Vanderholt, who is so famous that women flock to him whenever he sets foot in public. When these two meet, it isn’t exactly a match made in heaven, but it is the beginning of a good story about life, love, and having the courage to hold out for our dreams.
Blurb:
Jason Vanderholt is the hottest actor in Hollywood with legions of screaming fans.
Chloe Winters is a college student who hasn’t gotten around to seeing most if his movies.
When they meet by chance, he is smitten and she becomes the woman every other woman in America is dying to be, but it just isn’t her fairytale.
Excerpt:
Jason looked up at me again, as if unsure what to say next. “Look, can I get your phone number?”
“Not to be rude, but why?”
“You seem really cool. Real down to earth. Talking like this? It’s been nice.”
“And you seem very nice.” I looked past him at his security guys– that’s what I assumed they were –all trying to look like they weren’t with us. A group of girls headed in our direction and one of the men got up to block them. “You also have one of the weirdest jobs on the planet. Sorry, that’s-”
He laughed. “The truth? Like I said, you seem really cool. I’m in town sometimes to see my family. We should hang out.” He pulled out his phone.
It seemed rude to say no, so I gave him my number, and keyed his into my beat up little flip phone. More women and girls were streaming into the restaurant.
Jason turned and surveyed the scene. “Maybe this’ll be good for business for you?”
“I can disarm the alarm so you can go out the back door?”
“That’d be great, but in a few. I can sign some autographs and stuff. Get them to buy food, I hope.” He got to his feet.
“You don’t have to-”
“It’s cool.” He and his guys all rallied together and turned to face the growing crowd.
I stole away. It was cowardly, but I had the feeling that if these women noticed me sitting at his table, they might lynch me. Besides, it was past time for me to get back to work. I ducked behind the counter and tied my apron on. Abby was wrestling with the Red Stuff machine, which dispensed a mix of cranberry juice and red tea that was very popular in the summer.
“Here,” I said. I grasped the handle and twisted it back so that the machine would work again.
“Okay, so spill. How do you know him?”
Everyone behind the counter looked at me. “Shh,” I said. “I don’t want to get beaten up by a bunch of fans.”
“Are you involved with him?” Abby asked.
“Um. No. He’s dating Corey Cassidy, right? I barely know him. Like I said, he kind of knows my family and recognized me when I was an extra in his movie. He grew up in town.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Abby. “I have a friend of a friend who had a locker next to him at La Cueva. Junior year.”
“Oh,” I said. “Cool.” He’d just told me that he hadn’t been there for his junior year, but whatever. I felt a little sorry for anyone who felt the need to make up a claim like that. Surely they’d done something more interesting in their life than have a locker next to a guy who now pretended to be other people for a living?
The crowd surged as people mobbed Jason for autographs, and we sold four hundred to-go orders for coffee in an hour. It was insane. What was also insane was the number of girls who were crying and shaking as they paid, as if they were in the presence of divinity. Jason was “sooo sexy” and “sooo nice”. I let him and his crew out the back door when he texted me to explain he needed to catch his plane to LA.
“I’ll see you, Chloe,” he said as he put his sunglasses on and stepped out into the brightness.
*
Usually I walked to and from work, but that day I’d driven. Big mistake. I walked around to the parking lot at the end of my shift and found the tires on one side of my car had been slashed. It listed to one side, like a sinking ship. I called my insurance company, then the police – their non-emergency number. “I need to file a report,” I told the woman who picked up. “Someone vandalized my car.”
“Do you know whom?”
“No.”
“Have you got any enemies or-”
“You know, this is really stupid, but I vaguely know Jason Vanderholt. We had coffee this morning and, maybe I’m paranoid but-”
“One of his fans vandalized your car?”
“Dumb theory?”
“No. There’s a cruiser that should be there any minute.”
“Thanks.”
“You really know Jason Vanderholt?”
“Not well.”
“What’s he like?”
I shut my eyes and turned my face skyward. The sun still shone down, scorching hot. I got a detailed view of the blood vessels in my eyelids. “He’s nice. When did you say the cruiser would get here?”
“Should be there any second.”
Much to my relief, a shiny silver police car rounded the corner right then. “Okay, here it is. Thanks!” I hung up.
“So you’ve got celebrity connections?” the cop said as he stepped out.
I just pointed at my car. “Need to file a report. I didn’t see it happen. Don’t know about any witnesses.”
“Name?”
“Chloe Winters.”
“Chloe Winters?”
“Yeah.”
He took off his sunglasses and looked at me. He was middle aged, graying black hair, wrinkled skin. Kind, brown eyes. “I’m Officer Baca. You probably don’t remember me.”
I shook my head.
“I was a rookie way back when. Helped them airlift you.”
“Oh. Hi.”
“How are you?”
“I’m good.”
He looked down at my leg. I was wearing a skirt, so he could clearly see the little silver scar on my calf. “I’m glad to hear it. Have a daughter your age.”
“Oh, uh-huh.”
“How long did he get put away? The guy who did that to you?”
“Twenty five years maximum or something? It was a few consecutive sentences, but I don’t know how all that works with parole or whatever.”
“Not long enough.” He started scribbling away on his notepad. “Okay, this is your car?”
I nodded.
“You got insurance?”
“Yeah. Tow truck is coming.”
“Just gimme a sec to write this up.” He looked up at me again. “It really is good to see you. Had nightmares about that incident for years, but you look great.”
About the Author:
Emily Mah Tippetts writes chick lit as E.M. Tippetts and science fiction and fantasy as Emily Mah. Originally from New Mexico, she now lives in London with her family, where she also works as a jewelry designer. She is a former attorney who specialized in real estate, contracts, and estate planning. To find out more about her, visit her website at www.emtippetts.com.
I’d like to thank E.M. for dropping by and sharing about her latest book. Stay tuned for my review of this cute book!
