Diane Rinella
Love’s Forbidden Flower
(Make sure to scroll down and enter to win an ebook copy of Love's Forbidden Flower)
What inspired you to write Love’s
Forbidden Flower?
I watched The
Buttercup Chain, a 60’s counter culture film. The two main characters
are cousins, via identical twins, who were raised as brother and sister. A
small part of the story is based on their obvious romantic connection. The
woman is accepting of her emotions while the man is conflicted. Both the book
and the film taunted you with the situation but never gave you enough of it to
make the storyline satisfying. Upon doing research I discovered that there are
so many biases toward the subject that I could not find a single book that really
tackled it non-judgmentally. Yet the more I dug, the more common I found the
real-life situation to be. There are definitely stories to be told, and I
wanted to do so while making the reader forget about the relation and just see
the unfairness of societies biases. Love’s Forbidden Flower is a dark
human rights piece disguised as a witty romance novel.
Do you have a method for developing
your ideas?
Yes,
insomnia. I no longer stare at the ceiling in frustration. Instead, I let the
voices in my head speak. After awhile they become what is keeping me
awake, and I get up and bring them closer to reality.
How would you describe your writing
style?
Personal—in
that the reader sees life the way the main character does. Writing in the third
person makes me feel like I have a dissociative identity disorder. Since my
attention span is horrific I like to keep things moving. Rarely is life all
comedy or all tragedy, so you need both. Creating characters and situations
that encourage a few chuckles provides a balance that helps the reader ride the
emotional rollercoaster while avoiding monotony.
Tell us about your current WIP?
While Love’s
Forbidden Flower can be viewed as a stand-alone novel there is more to be
told. Time’s Forbidden Flower is drafted and will be released in
2013. I’ll let it slip and say that I am setting it up so that it could have an
infinite number of sequels exclusively including new characters while retaining
the old ones. (“Huh?” you say. Exactly!) I also have notes for a novel involving
a dead rock star, a bored fangirl, a crime ring, and a Ouija board. I
favor characters in transgressive relationships and situations, so there will
be much more of that to come.
Back Cover copy
The heart cares not what society
forbids.
Lily nurtures a secret love for a flawless man—the one who
is her soul mate. Donovan is gorgeous, charismatic, and delights in all of
Lily’s talents and quirks. Their innate knowledge of each other is almost
telepathic. Together they interlock like fine threads creating luxurious silk.
But society dictates this picture-perfect adoration is the
ghastliest of all possibilities.
As Lily embarks on a quest for the romance the heavens intended,
her suitor turns reluctant. Desperate to uncover why Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hiding decayed from a
tender-hearted gentleman into a ferociously self-serving, cocky bastard,
Lily is prepared for battle when it comes to the
salvation of her soul mate. However, Donovan traps Lily in a mental game of
chess, leaving her to question his sanity. When Lily’s revelations about
Donovan’s destructive alter ego lead to an inconceivable truth, can she help Donovan
survive fate’s cruel joke?
Impassioned,
witty, and deeply moving, Love’s Forbidden Flower is filled with stunning
controversies that will forever haunt your heart.
Love’s Forbidden Flower –
Chapter 1
Also available at: http://dianerinellaauthor.com/loves-forbidden-flower-chapter-1/
Today, somewhere among the roses
and petunias, my sanity squirted out of my brain and fertilized the backyard.
Why couldn’t those heart-seizing moments be experienced with anyone else? Why
did they have to be with the man who’s the ghastliest of all possibilities?
Obviously I hit
my head and became delusional, or I have had so many Thanksgiving leftovers
that I’ve slipped into a coma. Volunteering to play catch with Donovan to help
keep his arm loose seemed valiant. But he chuckled before rolling his eyes and
shaking his head in mock shame, cracking a joke about trying to teach me not to
be such a klutz on the field. He’s right. I’m truly female when it comes to
sports.
After suffering
several minutes of desperation, utter humiliation, and ruthless teasing—I
surrendered.
He looked to
the sky, arms outstretched, shaking his head in disbelief before sauntering
towards me, plotting how to finally teach me the basics of throwing a football.
At this point everything still seemed normal.
After tossing
me the ball he stood with his back facing me. Raising his right hand he said,
“Hold the ball like this.”
Apparently I
failed miserably.
“No. More like
this,” he emphasized while making a gesture that reflected my grip precisely.
He then gave me his snicker that could charm a nun out of her habit. “You’re
such a sorry case.”
Strolling
behind me, he put his left arm around my waist and pulled me close, twisting my
hips as he went. It was nothing. We’ve done it a million times before.
“First, situate
your body. Make sure you have a solid grip. Now pull back, like so.”
That’s when I
clumsily bonked him in the face.
“Oh, I’m so
sorry!” I laughed. He had it coming for that klutz remark.
“Suuuure you
are. Now stay in position.” Again he pulled me next to him, but this time
placing his cheek against mine. Hesitation flowed over us as our bodies
magnificently reacted to the sensuality of the touch. In his racing pulse, his
breath, and every cell in his body it seemed that Donovan desired the luxury of
exploring my mouth with his own. Thoughts of how he must taste wandered over
me. Would he be sweet like the cookies I bake that he loves so much? Or creamy
and delicious like an expensive piece of chocolate? The kind where even the
tiniest morsel could satisfy a craving, yet would leave you desiring more for
days to come.
Just as our
cheeks glided together, as if to surrender to the intoxication, he gripped my
hand tighter and yelled, “Now throw!” lunging into the toss, forcing me to
follow along. It was incredibly beautiful—both the moment and the pass.
“I knew you
could do it. You just needed the right touch,” Donovan yelled, running after
the ball.
The “right
touch?” How does that translate? Was he messing with me so I’d relax, or didn’t
he realize what had transpired? Dear God, please let that interlude have been
in my head.
He tossed me
the ball. “Try it again.”
Resuming
position, my mind tried to lift its cloudy haze. “One. Two,” I released the
ball. “Three!” The lopsided pass was far better than I’d ever managed before.
Donovan grabbed
the ball and tossed it back to me. “Oh, yes! Lily goes aggro! Almost perfect.
Try it again.”
The next time
it sailed right into his hands. His expression flipped from wide-eyed to a
devious turn of the lips as he ran towards my end of the yard. My pride kicked
in. There was no way I’d let him get away with this. In the spirit of the game
I pounced on him, taking him down to the ground, his head almost landing in a
rose bush.
“What the hell?
Where did you learn to do that?”
“A woman has
her ways,” I said playfully. What was I thinking? Clearly I wasn’t.
His eyes were
magnetizing with their composition of deep and complicated blues like the waves
of the ocean. Their depth intensified by his fair complexion and layered
obsidian hair, reminiscent of the feathers of a raven. My breathing ceased as
his eyes drew me in, transfixed.
“Hey, Lil. I’m
kind of pinned here.”
At least that’s
what I think he said. That pesky haze still cluttered my brain like murky pea
soup. He must have raised himself because his hand caressed my face like a
whisper while those incredible eyes drew closer. “Hey, you all right?”
My head rattled
away the clouds. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“We’d better
call it quits before one of us breaks the other.”
As if nothing
extraordinary happened, he aided me to my feet, and we went inside, wordlessly.
The remainder
of the evening we desperately tried to act unconcernedly, but it was obvious
something was amiss. Our usual dinner banter was strained, causing Mom to
pretend hopefully that we might turn into normal siblings, the ones who often
don’t get along. But that will never happen; we’re too connected. Our mutual
cognizance only fazes others. To us it’s a simple skill we possess, like
writing in cursive. How have I never noticed how freakishly unconventional it
is?
But dinner was
middling. It was after that things got abominable. Or rather, I made an uncouth
fool of myself.
“Hey, thanks a
lot. You almost got me in massive trouble.” Donovan appeared slightly
indignant, albeit a little uncomfortable as he slipped into my room, leaning
casually against the doorframe with his arms crossed.
“What?” I
asked, dropping my pencil onto my math book while mocking his characteristic
eye roll. “Okay, how?”
“You had to
tell Dad you tackled me.” Donovan plopped onto the foot of my bed so heavily my
book bounced, sending my pencil flying onto the floor. Attempting to look
scornful, I lowered and pinched my brows, then motioned for him to pick it up.
“I did, fair
and square. Did he really give you a bad time over that?” I swiped the pencil
from his hand while hoping Dad was kind, yet knowing the truth. He’s always far
too hard on Donovan and expects him to be the quintessential manly son at all
times. Also, I should have known better. At 5’11” Donovan’s got a good 7” on
me, so of course Dad was upset. No excuses, even when it comes to his sister.
“Just a little.
He did that voice again. The one where he’s all, ‘I am trying to sound like I’m
kidding, but I also want you to know that I am serious.’ I think he’s afraid
I’m going soft right before the big game and I’ll disappoint him.”
It was then the
stupidest thing I’ll ever utter sprang from my mouth. “That’s silly, Donovan. I
bet you’ll never go soft, and if you don’t watch your moves, the next time I
pin you I may do more than damage your ego.”
My insides
clamped. Maybe he heard it the way I hope I intended it; but his eyes sparkled
as he absorbed my words. Since this afternoon his phenomenal eyes have become
my obsession.
As he exited
the room, flirtatiously singing, “Goodnight, Lilyanna,” his grin said it all.
He knew exactly how I feared I meant it. I might as well have written it on the
bathroom mirror and taped his toothbrush next to it. I’m seriously screwed!
It’s
nonsensical. There’ll be no enchanted moment where one of us discovers the
other was adopted or abandoned by aliens. Though my thoughts should sicken me,
all I want is to sneak into his room like I did when I was little, put my head
on his shoulder, and have him tell me it’s just a vile dream. But this is
reality, and nothing about the radiant glow burning inside me since being
captured by his eyes feels nefarious.
But how
illogical is it really? Aren’t you supposed to fall for your best friend? The
one who listens to you with undivided attention no matter how ridiculous you’re
being? The person who will instinctively drop everything to put his arms around
you when you’re hurt, even if you’ve yet to utter a word? Donovan is all those
things and countless more.
I’ve got to stop reading Mom’s romance novels. They’re making me
delusional.
Enjoying San
Francisco as a backdrop, the ghosts in Diane’s 150-year old Victorian home
augment the chorus in her head. With insomnia as their catalyst, these voices
have become multifarious characters that haunt her well into the sun’s crowning
hours, refusing to let go until they have manipulated her into succumbing to
their whims. Her experiences as an actress, business owner, artisan cake
designer, software project manager, Internet radio disc jockey, vintage rock n’
roll journalist/fan girl, and lover of dark and quirky personalities influence
her idiosyncratic writing.
Diane is giving away one ebook copy of Love's forbidden Flower to one person that comments below along with their email address. Winner will be chosen via Random.org and announced on Sunday February 10, 2013. Good luck!
An amazing story! Definitely a keeper.
A must read. A good page turner.
A enjoyable read. An average book.
A book that has flaws and is hard to finish.
Terrible and couldn't finish it.
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