The Ever-Changing Ending
To say the ending of One Perfect Wish was a long time in coming is putting it mildly.
I like my characters to have happy endings – well, most of the time – but every now and then I really make them suffer. My free read Anything (found on my blog) is one such example. When I first started writing One Perfect Wish I had every intention of putting my characters through hell and leaving them there.
I wanted to write something with a bittersweet ending rather than a traditional happy ever after.
I should have known better.
Despite my best intentions of making them suffer and then delivering the killing blow to end the story, I found myself wavering.
The more words I put on the page, the less likely it was that a bittersweet ending was going to be on the cards.
I like to make my characters work for their happy endings and goodness knows I make them suffer. But usually it is with the knowledge that once they have earned their reward they get to live happily ever after with the man of their dreams.
As I wrote Scott and Cameron's story I almost immediately started looking for a way out of the bittersweet ending I envisaged for the two of them. It wasn't long before I had thrown the tear-jerker ending idea into the trash and was leaning towards a hopeful ending. Not a happily ever after, but at least something less depressing than the notes on the first draft.
For the hopeful ending I did at least get it written and it actually still is a part of the story. Yet it isn't the end. I couldn't bear for my two boys to not get their happy ending and ended up carrying on writing their story after the scene that I intended to be the end of the story.
On and on I wrote until Scott and Cameron did get their happily ever after.
One day I will, hopefully, manage to write that bittersweet ending story and make sure that it doesn't end up with a traditional ending simply because I can't bear to leave my characters unhappy. I strengthen my resolve to do this every time I see a reviewer call one of my stories “predictable” and one day I know I will have to bite the bullet and write that tear-jerker that will throw everyone for a loop.
I think, however, that when I do that it will need to be a regular contemporary/historical story. When you write paranormal it is far too easy to undo the disaster you have inflicted on your characters with a wave of the "magic wand".
Now, I imagine there are some people thinking that this blog post is mighty spoilery for the story since – horror of horrors – you know Scott and Cameron end up together at the end. I don't see it that way. If a story does have an unhappy ending then most publishers put up a warning for the bittersweet ending right there on the product page. This story does not have one of those, so of course it will have a happy ending.
If you want to know how they achieve it then get your copy of One Perfect Wish.
One Perfect Wish by L.M. Brown
Playing the part of another man’s husband to fulfil a wish is easy, but what happens at midnight when the magical day is over?
Scott Baxter is a workaholic with no time for love, until a djinn pulls him out of his life and deposits him into the bed of Cameron Kirk. Cut off from his life, Scott isn’t happy about the idea of being forced to help the djinn grant an unspecified wish, but he soon finds he has no real choice in the matter. The djinn, who has turned his life upside down, has powers that prevent Scott from leaving and ensure he does nothing to ruin Cameron’s day with his ‘husband’.
Reluctant at first, Scott finds that as the day progresses he starts to enjoy playing the role of Cameron’s husband. He connects with his unexpected lover in a way he never has with other men.
Scott searches for clues to help him track down Cameron after the day is over and he returns to his own life. He doesn’t want the day to end, but the wish is out of his control and when the magic is finished his time with Cameron may be over too.
Scott Baxter woke with a strange feeling something wasn’t quite right. Half asleep and with his eyes still closed, he tried to figure out what could be different. The bed seemed too soft and far more luxurious than the cheap hotel mattress he vaguely recalled crashing on the night before. A thick duvet covered him and he could feel warmth similar to the heat that usually came from another body close up against him. He couldn’t recall ever waking in a hotel with such contentment as he felt this morning.
After working nearly forty-eight hours straight, he had flown back to England on the red eye, practically sleepwalked to a taxi, and had finally fallen into bed exhausted. Long overdue for a break, he told himself he’d take one after his latest consulting project had been completed. He told himself the same thing every time, even though he knew his boss would have another job lined up for him before the final work had been finished on this one.
“Morning,” a sleepy voice murmured into his ear.
Scott froze. His unexpected bedmate moved and Scott noticed he had some serious morning wood pressed against his arse.
He opened his eyes. Only his companion’s arm wrapped around Scott’s chest stopped him falling out of bed from the shock. Had the relentless pressure of his job finally caused him to snap?
The hotel room had vanished and instead he appeared to be in someone’s house. The drapes over the patio doors had been pulled back and a snow-covered garden stretched toward a frozen pond. Light snow fell from the cloudy sky. The landscape outside the doors seemed more like January than May.
“Scott, are you okay?”
Scott didn’t know what to say. Had he been drugged and kidnapped? And if so, why? He wasn’t anyone important and his family didn’t have the money to pay any ransom.
“Ah good, you’re awake,” a second voice said. Like the first, this voice also belonged to a man, though he seemed to have a slight accent Scott couldn’t place.
Scott wondered how many men he had climbed into bed with last night, before he saw the second speaker stood at the end of the bed with his arms folded across his bare chest. With baggy silk trousers and golden metal cuffs on his wrists, he could have stepped straight out of Arabian Nights.
“What the hell is going on?” Scott shouted as he tried to untangle himself from the arms of the man sharing his bed. His companion wasn’t exactly helping him and instead seemed to be frozen in place like a statue. He poked the man with a finger. His skin felt normal, yet the other man didn’t react at all.
“You’re here to fulfill a wish,” the man at end of the bed told him. “I’m a djinn and I’m here to explain your present situation.”
Scott stopped contemplating the statue man beside him. “Excuse me?”
The djinn nodded. “I’m sure you’ve heard of my kind. We grant wishes to those who summon us. Well, I’m here because someone wished for you.”
A headache started behind Scott’s eyes. He didn’t have time for this nonsense.
L.M. Brown lives in England, in a quaint little village that time doesn't seem to have touched. No, wait a minute—that's the retirement biography. Right now she is in England in a medium sized town that no one has ever heard of, so she won't bore you with the details. Keeping her company are numerous sexy men. She just wishes that they weren't all inside her head.
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