Sex and Coffee at Bob Evans

~ by Vonnie Davis

Bob Evans, a restaurant chain that serves breakfast all day, along with other fare, is one of our favorite places to eat. One reason is their free Wi-Fi. Another is the coffee. And, of course, the service and food is always excellent. We go two or three times a week, arriving around ten in the morning and staying until three. I write. Calvin reads our morning newspaper and his iPad.

On our way there, he'll often ask me what I plan on writing and we'll discuss it. So when I told Calvin today was sex scene writing day, he kissed my hand and told me I'd get through it just like I had with every other one I'd written.

Calvin knows how I dislike penning sex scenes. How I've balked at past editors demanding more sex, earlier in the book and with explicit language. Honestly, if I could get away with writing sex in a humorous way, I would.

Yesterday, the greeter took us to our booth and chatted for a few minutes. We're known by name there, after all. Our waitress came by to say hello and did we want our usual coffees? Calvin responded with, "Yes, and please keep my wife's cup filled today. She's writing an up-against-the-wall sex scene."

I slid down on my side of the booth, trying to look as small as I felt.

The waitress, her face as red as Bob Evan's roof, opened and closed her mouth with only a squeak eking out before nodding and all but running away.

"Why would you tell her that?"

"What? That you're writing a sex scene? It's sex, angel, everyone does it." He shook his newspaper as if he'd just proclaimed something profound. The waitress appeared with our cups and Calvin looked at her. "Did I offend you with my remark earlier? I didn't mean to. After all, everyone has sex. Right?"

She waved her hand in front of her face. "Oh lawd, another hot flash!" She bustled off.

Word must have spread.

Every waitress, one of the cooks, AND the manager came by with a pot of coffee to top off my cup, each one standing behind my shoulder. I knew what they were doing. So in a "rare" display of cheekiness (oh dear, was that a bad pun?), I kept tapping away on my laptop, writing my sex scene as they nonchalantly read snippets of it. The manager tapped my shoulder and said Calvin and I could stay as long as we wanted. Uh-huh. Before I knew it, I had the dreaded scene written. In fact, I moved them onto the shower where they did the wild fandango again. By then I'd had so much coffee, I had the shakes.

I took an online workshop through RWA a couple years ago about writing sensual scenes. The presenter talked about setting the scene to write sex. How did we do it? Some participants wrote they donned sexy lingerie. Others lit candles and played sexy music. Some drank wine by candlelight, dressed in sexy things and listening to slow, sultry tunes. Me? I go to Bob Evans and drink coffee.

What's your method?

READ MORE ABOUT VONNIE DAVIS at www.vonniedavis.com

*** Pre-order book two of her Black Eagle Ops series, HERS TO HEAL, releasing on the 22nd. https://amzn.com/B01CBM44Q0

A FACEBOOK BOOK RELEASE PARTY AND YOU'RE ALL INVITED! Nov. 22nd...6 pm to 10:30 pm (Eastern time) Guest authors, prizes, girl talk, man candy (be prepared!), and my well-known exercise routine. Whoot!!! The link for the party is:

https://www.facebook.com/events/1811336955821473/...

Writing With Deaf Ears & French Toast

The expression "falling on deaf ears" can mean different things to writers. We can literally hold, or seemingly hold a conversation with you--smiling, nodding, furring our eyebrows--while our minds are plotting a murder or choreographing a sex scene or sculpting an argument for our stories. We can give the obligatory "oh no" to your complaints about something important to you, while mentally rewriting a paragraph we wrote yesterday.

We can't help it. It's how we're wired. My eldest son plays the bass guitar for relaxation after teaching 8th graders all day. He can name every note to certain songs, yet he'll lock himself out of the house in a minute. My youngest son has wrestled since the 4th grade. Mention a match in his junior year of high school and he can tell you every move he made. Yet he can't recall if he wished his dad happy birthday. We're wired to focus on what's important to us.

Sometimes we have to teach ourselves to let things fall on deaf ears so we can focus on what's of primary interest to us.

One of the best places for me to write is our local Bob Evans Restaurant. The staff knows us both by name, knows to hook me up to an IV of coffee and what our order will be--no menus needed--just bring me French Toast. We camp out in a booth for three to four hours. Then we move to McDonalds for an ice cream cone and two more hours of writing. Calvin delves into his iPad and scours the papers. He is a news hound.

People have asked how can I write in a restaurant? How can I block out the noise?

It's easy. I live with Calvin.

Calvin is very hard of hearing and wears hearing aides in each ear. He also can't stand a quiet room. So, in the morning as he's getting dressed and I'm reading emails, he has Bach playing in the bedroom and a news channel on the TV. He shuffles out to the kitchen, turns on Mozart on my CD player there and then pours a cup of coffee to carry back into the bedroom. I now have Bach, Mozart and the news assaulting my ears.

Later, he goes into the small bedroom to ride the stationary bike and turns on CD's of French singers and a different news station. My brain is ready to burst. A half-hour later, he's in the den watching a crime drama and playing jazz music. It occurs to him he needs a screw driver or a hammer, so he goes into the garage, turns on the TV out there and the stereo where he plays down and dirty blues. This man with a Masters degree only knows how to turn things "on," never, ever "off." Meanwhile, I am left to listen to a cacophony of television and music. But let me turn one thing off and old "my ears are bad" can hear its absence at fifty paces.

So, how can I go into a zone and write in a restaurant, oblivious to the comings and goings of others? It's a talent my husband taught me.

Vonnie's had two books released in the last 6 weeks. A paranormal romance from Random House Loveswept, book one of her Highland Beloved series--A HIGHLANDER'S OBSESSION.
http://amzn.com/B00ILX9WC0

Book one of her "Wild Heat" series from HarperImpulse--HOW TO SEDUCE A FIREMAN.
http://amzn.com/B00ME1OWD4

One Wacky Leap by Vonnie Davis

An ancient African proverb says, "It takes a village to raise a child." Lovely sentiment, isn't it? The proverb reaffirms the importance of others in our lives.

But for me, a wacky writer, it seems to take a restaurant to write a book. Okay, so leaping from a sage proverb to my observation was a bit of a stretch, even for me, but stick with me here.

Calvin and I love our local Bob Evans restaurant. The staff knows us by name and when we arrive, laptop and iPad in hand, they lead us to a booth and hook me up to an IV of coffee. We are there three or four times a week.

So is it any wonder, I dedicated the first book in my romantic suspense series to the staff of our Lynchburg Bob Evans? After all, I'd written many scenes there. Waitresses would whiz to a halt at my elbow and whisper, "What are we writing today?" as they refilled my coffee cup. I'd tell them and they would "ooh and ahh" before moving on to ask another customer if everything was to their liking. The place has the friendliest staff. Once they knew I'd named them all in the dedication, they could not wait for its release. I'd overhear them tell other patrons, "See that lady over there? She put us in her book..."

 

 

When Mona Lisa's Room was released, I gave each of the employees an autographed copy of my romantic suspense set in Paris.

 

 

About a month later, the manager brought a man to our booth. "Vonnie, this is the District Manager for Bob Evans. I told him all about you dedicating your latest book to all of us here."

 

He pumped my hand. "Oh wow, I feel as if I'm in the presence of greatness."

 

I nearly choked on my grits.

 

"I want Jeff, the manager, to put his copy of your book in a shadow box to hang next to our register. Would that be okay with you?"

 

I nodded and said, "Sure." So, my book now holds a place of honor at a local eatery. Mona Lisa's Room has also won the HOLT Medallion Award of Merit in two categories: Best Romantic Suspense and Best Book by a Virginia Author. 

The back cover blurb is in the form of an email:

Gwen,

 

You won't believe this email. I'm sitting in a French safe house, eating caviar and drinking champagne with a handsome government agent, Niko Reynard. He's wearing nothing but silk pajama bottoms and mega doses of sex appeal. I'm in big trouble, little sister. He's kissed me several times and given me a foot massage that nearly caused spontaneous combustion. I'm feeling strangely virginal compared to the sexual prowess this thirty-year-old man exudes.

 

When I came to Paris for a bit of adventure, I never imagined I'd foil a bombing attempt, karate-kick two men, and run from terrorists while wearing a new pair of stilettos. I've met a German musician, a gay poet from Australia, and the most delightful older French woman.

 

Don't worry. I'm safe--the jury's still out on yummy Niko, though. The more champagne I drink, the less reserved I feel. What an unforgettable fortieth birthday!

 

Alyson

You can learn more about Vonnie's books at www.vonniedavis.com