Head-hopping: the bane of the beginning writer

Stepping into the kitchen, Katherine caught the aroma of her mother’s pumpkin pie in the oven. Memories assailed her--happier times of Christmases long past. If only . . .

“Katherine. I thought I heard you arrive.” Phillip suppressed the rage boiling up inside. His prodigal daughter would choose today, of all days, to intrude upon their lives.

“Really, Dad, you thought I wouldn’t come?” Katherine kept her expression neutral. She wouldn’t let her father see how his cruel tone affected her.

Hearing voices in the kitchen, Joan hurried downstairs. At the sight of her sister Katherine standing by the window, she gasped, a thrill of happiness raising goose bumps on her arms. “Oh, Kat! I’ve missed you!”

If this were the opening scene of a novel, which character would you identify with--Katherine, Phillip, or Joan? They all seem to have something important at stake. Confusing, isn’t it?

Why? Because this is a classic example of what is termed “head-hopping.”

Head-hopping occurs when a writer jumps willy-nilly from one character’s point of view to another’s throughout the scene. In the scene above, just when we’re starting to identify with Katherine, suddenly we’re ripped out of her viewpoint and thrust into her father’s. Then we ping-pong back to Katherine, and before we can figure out what’s going on between the two of them, in pops Joan, and we’re yanked inside her mind.

It’s enough to give a reader whiplash!

For anyone who’s been writing for very long, especially if you’ve entered contests or joined a critique group, you’ve encountered the term SINGLE POV (point of view). Writing in single POV--and doing it well and consistently--is among the most important skills a writer must learn.

So what’s the big deal? Don’t readers want to know what’s going on inside each character’s head? Of course they do, at least for the central characters.

But if you feed your readers everyone’s viewpoint all at once, you deny them the one thing they want most from a good novel: deep and personal identification with a single--and singularly important--character.

The trick is to give them one main character they can relate to in this scene, and then, if the story calls for it, possibly a different but equally important character in the next scene. The scene-by-scene shift between the hero’s and heroine’s POV is typical of popular romance novels. If your plot dictates, you may even introduce one or more additional viewpoint characters (prominent supporting characters or possibly the antagonist) a little farther along in the book--and only after you have given your readers ample time to connect with the protagonist. 

BUT YOU MUST LIMIT YOURSELF TO 

ONE VIEWPOINT CHARACTER PER SCENE.

Mastering single point of view takes practice, but it’s a skill any writer can learn. And the truth is, it isn’t as hard as you might think. The first step is understanding exactly what viewpoint is, and Dwight Swain, author of Techniques of the Selling Writer, sums it up best:

Viewpoint is the spot from which you see a story. It’s the position and perspective you occupy in order best to savor a fictional experience.

Swain goes on to say:

Ordinarily, that vantage point is inside somebody’s skin.

Keep this advice in mind as we examine the various types of viewpoints an author might use.

OMNISCIENT VIEWPOINT. Just as the name implies, narration in omniscient viewpoint hovers over all the story action. In many ways, it’s like the example given at the start of this post. But we could even take the scene a step further by adding a paragraph such as this:

What none of them realized, however, was that a killer snowstorm lurked just over the horizon. Any moment now, it would swoop in and destroy any hopes this family had of salvaging Christmas.

The problem with omniscient viewpoint is the distance it places between the reader and the characters. While we’re getting some interesting insight into each of them, we never get the chance to connect deeply with just one of them. And since the paragraph I just added to the scene steps all the way into the omniscient author’s point of view, revealing a plot twist none of the characters has any awareness of or control over, the separation between reader and character is stretched even farther.

FIRST PERSON VIEWPOINT. In first person, the narrator is either the main character or an involved observer, and only first-person pronouns (e.g., I, me, my) are used when the narrator refers to himself or herself. A good example of the “involved observer” is Nick, the narrator of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. Though Nick is mainly reporting what he learns about his neighbor Jay Gatsby, Nick has a stake in the story because his relationship with Gatsby will change him profoundly.

To write in first person means to limit yourself to describing only what that character knows, thinks, feels, sees, experiences, or learns in the course of the story. The character can make judgments or assumptions about other characters, but the reader will experience the plot only through the narrator’s perceptions.

The challenge with writing first person is to keep the narration sounding natural, not stilted. In first person it’s also tempting to tell rather than show by fully dramatizing a scene. Too many sentences that are basically “I did this” or “I said that” get old very fast for your reader.

Certain skilled novelists such as Lisa Samson have successfully used multiple first-person narrators within the same novel, alternating narrators from chapter to chapter or changing narrators at crucial plot breaks. However, this is a technique best left to more experienced writers.

THIRD PERSON VIEWPOINT. Third person (he, she, him, her) is by far the most common writing style. It has some characteristics of omniscient viewpoint in that the author can access as many viewpoints as the story requires. Because third person by its very nature adds a layer of distancing between reader and character, it gives the author more flexibility than first person for providing natural-sounding description, inserting necessary background information, or interpreting events.

LIMITED THIRD PERSON, the viewpoint editors and modern readers find most comfortable and natural, requires staying tightly connected to a single viewpoint, and only one viewpoint per scene. It’s almost as close as first person, and the language and syntax will be similar, with the exception of the pronouns used, because the narration is strongly tied to the character’s natural expression. Limited third person also gives the author some freedom to elaborate on description and background without sounding stilted or forced, as it might come across if told in first person.

How, then, do you decide who your viewpoint character will be? And once you decide, how do you remain firmly locked in that viewpoint?

The answer to the first question is simple: Your viewpoint character should be the character who has the most to gain or lose in this particular scene. Know your scene goal and you’ll know whose viewpoint to focus on. (See these Seekerville posts by Winnie Griggs and Janet Dean for more on scenes and scene goals.)

Now, to ground yourself firmly in that character, you must mentally put yourself inside his or her head. See the scene unfold through this character’s eyes. Hear what the character hears. Feel what the character feels. If someone walks into the room, imagine how the viewpoint character perceives the arrival.

Remember, THE READER CANNOT KNOW ANYTHING YOUR VIEWPOINT CHARACTER IS NOT CONSCIOUSLY AWARE OF IN THAT MOMENT.

Bearing all this in mind, let’s rewrite my opening example, this time strictly in Katherine’s viewpoint:

Stepping into the kitchen, Katherine caught the aroma of her mother’s pumpkin pie in the oven. Memories assailed her--happier times of Christmases long past. If only . . .

“Katherine. I thought I heard you arrive.” Rage flashed in her father’s eyes, and her stomach lurched. Clearly, she wasn’t welcome. 

“Really, Dad, you thought I wouldn’t come?” Tamping down her emotions, Katherine kept her expression neutral. She wouldn’t let her father see how his cruel tone affected her.

Footsteps sounded on the staircase, and moments later, Katherine’s younger sister Joan burst into the kitchen, her sunny smile eclipsing their father’s scowl. “Oh, Kat! I’ve missed you!”

Can you see the difference? We still sense how upset Katherine’s father is that she came, and we still recognize how thrilled Joan is to see her sister again. But this time we’re experiencing the scene exclusively through Katherine’s perceptions. Doesn’t it make you care about her all the more? Doesn’t it fill you with curiosity about what she may have done (or not done) in the past to evoke these very different responses from her family?

Your assignment: Choose ONE character from the descriptions below and write a short scene exclusively in that character’s viewpoint. Pull out all the stops--sight, smell, sound, taste, touch. Include thoughts, feelings, and internal reactions. Share your scene in the comment section and we’ll see how you did with single POV!

LISA. College student arriving home for the holidays. She doesn’t want her parents to know she is failing a class.

TED. Lisa’s boyfriend. He wants to break up with her, but it’s Christmas.

KAREN. Lisa’s best friend. She has a crush on Ted but feels loyalty to Lisa.

JOE. Lisa’s father, a widower. He needs to tell Lisa he is planning to remarry, and he knows she won’t be happy about it.

For more help with point of view, check out these Seekerville posts:

Missy Tippens on "My View on Point of View"

Seekerville guest Lynne Marshall

Julie Lessman on "Confessions of a POV Queen"

Your host today, Myra Johnson

Myra Johnson's latest release is When the Clouds Roll By (Abingdon Press, book 1 in the Till We Meet Again series). Watch for book 2, Whisper Goodbye, next spring, followed by Every Tear a Memory in the fall.

 

Annemarie Kendall is overjoyed when the armistice is signed and the Great War comes to an end. Her fiancé, Lieutenant Gilbert Ballard, is coming home, and though he is wounded, she is excited to start their life together. But when he arrives, her dreams are dashed when she learns Gilbert is suffering from headaches, depression, and an addiction to pain killers. This is not the man she had planned to marry. After serving in the trenches, Army Chaplain Samuel Vickary is barely holding onto his faith. Putting up a brave front as he ministers to the injured soldiers at the hospital in Hot Springs, Arkansas, he befriends Gilbert and eventually falls for Annemarie. While Annemarie tries to sort out her confused feelings about the two men in her life, she witnesses firsthand the bitterness and hurt they both hold within. Who will she choose? Will she have the courage to follow her heart and become the woman God intended her to be? As the world emerges from the shadow of war, Annemarie clings to her faith as she wonders if her future holds the hope, happiness, and love for which she so desperately longs.

Secondary Characters Are People Too

I’ve been busy the last month or so working on something that I thought would take a week, maybe two.
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Uh. No.
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A ten day project turned into a six-week one. Granted, I have a full-time job, took a week-long business trip, and had a family emergency that took up some of that time, but the “project” became bigger than I ever dreamed.
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And it made my manuscript much, much better, so I’m not complaining.
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So, let’s dive in.
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I’m talking weaving existing secondary characters points of view (POV) into a manuscript that is already completed.
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Whoa!
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It’s not as simple as it sounds. Read on to find out why, and what I did to make it work.
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If you have the slightest idea that you might add a second, third, or fourth POV into the manuscript you’re working, plan on it from the very beginning. Don’t assume you can just add that POV later.
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My manuscript begged for additional POVs, but I didn’t write them into the story in the beginning. I finished it, and was very pleased with the outcome. But every so often, I’d be discussing length with someone and know that it could be 10-15K longer.
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The story could tell more of the villian’s goal, motivation, and conflict (GMC), as well as one of the key secondary character’s GMC, which was a kid, btw (and a blog post for another day). And I really wanted to tell a little of this kid’s story.
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But I put it off.
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I could add that part to the story with one hand tied behind my back, after I’d shopped it around at the current length. I already knew his GMC, and it would only be a few pages tucked in here and there.
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It would be fun.
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I kept putting it off though, working on a new story, shopping the existing one, until an industry professional asked me to lengthen the manuscript.
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Sure, I can do that. Easy.
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And it was very easy to start at the beginning and tuck in a scene here, one there, set the stage, etc., but by the time I got to the middle (why is it always the middle?), things got tricky. And by end, it became downright complicated.
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Just like figuring out my hero and heroine’s GMC’s, I had to do the same for these two secondary characters. As long as they weren’t “on stage”, the reader could insert any kind of reasons for their actions, but once they have their own POV, that’s when the horse kicks over the traces.
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Try it. You might be shocked at how it changes the way your story plays out.
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I had a pretty solid story, but as I started adding in these additional POVs, I realized I had these guys doing some things that wouldn’t be true to character. This became really clear when the hero and heroine figure out who the bad guy is.
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The whole section where the plot fell apart was only 15-20 pages long, but it needed to be rewritten to beef up the tension and be believable for all parties involved. The remaining pages didn’t require a complete rewrite, just some wrap-up scenes from the two new POVs.
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Think of a secondary character in one of your manuscripts, someone who sways your protagonist, antagonist, or your plot in some way. Plot out their GMC, and even if you don’t write them into the story, if you’re like me, you’ll have a few aha moments where you realize the story isn’t quite what it needs to be.
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Because you know what?
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Secondary characters are people, too.

Some Deep Point of View tips

Camy here! I’m breaking my own rule about short blog posts because I got a few questions recently about deep point of view, and I thought it might be nice to give a few quick and dirty tips for how to deepen your character’s point of view in a manuscript.

(For those of you not familiar with the phrase, “deep point of view,” the point of going deeper in your limited third person point of view is to stick the reader in your character’s skin. This will often result in a more powerful emotional experience for your reader.)

Don’t name the emotion.

Many times, when a writer names an emotion, it distances the reader from the character. For example:

Anxiety trembled in her stomach.

Anger coursed through her.

She shivered as fear tiptoed down her spine.

Readers don’t fully feel the emotion when they simply read the words anxiety, anger, fear, etc.

They feel the emotion when they’re in the character’s body and head, feeling the physical sensations, acting with the character, thinking their thoughts, speaking their words.

An electric mixer in her stomach scrambled her insides.

Her body went rigid and her clawed hands trembled, a thread away from ripping the smile off his face.

A ghostly fingertip drew down her spine, freezing her shoulder blades together.

As with anything, moderation is the key—if the sentence flows better and is more powerful by naming the emotion, there’s no rule that says you can’t do it.

Eliminate “telling” verbs.

By “telling” verbs, I mean phrases like “he wondered,” “she realized,” “he saw,” “she felt,” etc.

He wondered if he’d ever return to her.

She realized he wasn’t the man she thought he was.

He decided to follow her.

She felt cold.

These “telling” verbs tend to distance the reader from the character rather than sticking the reader in the character’s skin.

Would he ever return to her? (By eliminating “he wondered,” the reader is thinking his thoughts with him.)

He wasn’t the man she thought he was.

He turned around and followed her. (This combines action with decision, which draws the reader along because something is happening.)

Cold. Her feet had disappeared. Her fingers wouldn’t move. The shivering had taken over her entire body. (Here, we d help the reader actually feel the character’s physical sensations.)

Show immediate emotional reactions in physical, thought, dialogue, action.

This isn’t a hard and fast rule, but often a character’s reaction to something usually follows this order:

(1) physical (gut or involuntary) reaction
(2) thought
(3) dialogue
(4) purposeful action

If you write a character’s reaction in this order, it will usually give a stronger visual picture in your reader’s mind, and the reader herself will almost feel the reactions with your character.

You don't have to use all four reactions. Go with the flow of the scene. Sometimes I only use one or two (like physical and thought, or thought and dialogue, etc.), whatever "feels" right to me when I write the scene.

One thing to remember--use vivid imagery for your reader and avoid clichés.

Don't have your heroine’s heart leap for joy. Instead:

For a wild moment, she thought, He's come to see me. And her heart twirled in a riotous dance." –Moi, Deadly Intent

Don’t have your hero go on red alert. Instead:

Follow your gut, Pete's first sergeant used to remind him. Right now, his gut was screaming that something wasn't on the up-and-up about this late-night rendezvous. –Debby Giusti, Protecting Her Child

Look at your own character's emotional reactions. Are they in the right order? Are they vivid?

Rewrite thoughts to be more immediate.

Many times, meandering thoughts are “telling” the reader information purely for the sake of the story.

Sarah wondered why he wanted to see her. She was only the housemaid, not a member of the family, and Lord Griffith hated her.

Sarah wouldn’t be likely to say to herself, “I’m only Josephine’s housemaid, not a member of the family, and Mr. Griffith hates me.” She knows all that already so she wouldn’t tell it to herself.

But she’d emotionally react to her knowledge of those facts, and her emotional reaction will draw the reader into her emotions, too.

Why would Lord Griffith want her, of all people? To further humiliate the housemaid? Her gut involuntarily clenched at the fleeting vision of his spit flying in her face, his gaze blacker than the coat of his prize-winning horse.

Don’t make it easy for your reader. Instead, make the reader work to discover clues about the characters.

Describe things as your point of view character would describe them.

Think of your character’s personality and life experiences. The language of the narrative—even though it’s in third person—would still closely reflect the character’s own word choices.

My heroine, Naomi Grant, wouldn’t describe her own father as Mr. Grant (unless they had a different sort of relationship and she was used to referring to her father as Mr. Grant, which would be a whole other set of neuroses). She’d be more likely to think of him as “Dad” or “my dad” or “my father.”

Word choice, descriptions, and grammar styles should differ from character to character as you switch point of views in your story.

Eat and leave. That’s all she had to do.

If Grandma didn’t kill her first for being late.

Lex Sakai raced through the open doorway to the Chinese restaurant and was immediately immersed in conversation, babies’ wails, clashing perfumes, and stale sesame oil. She tripped over the threshold and almost turned her ankle. Stupid pumps. Man, she hated wearing heels.

--Camy Tang, Sushi for One?
(forgive me for using so many of my own examples, but it’s just easier for me)

Compare to:

Andrea O’Malley paused on the threshold of the Chinese restaurant. She wasn’t sure if she liked the exotic smells that teased her nose—spices she couldn’t name, as well as nutty sesame oil, salty-sweet oyster sauce, pungent soy sauce. She patted her French twist, which didn’t need fiddling with. She couldn’t help it—she was a golden-haired alien in the midst of these black-haired party guests. At least she hadn’t dressed inappropriately—the other guests stood talking in clusters, the women in short silk dresses like her own.

Don’t describe things/people/settings—instead, experience them through your viewpoint character.

If you write nice sentences of colorful description of a person, setting, or object, there’s limited emotional involvement since the description could be coming from another person in the room, not necessarily your viewpoint character.

Instead, give your character’s emotional reaction to the description. Several things will happen:

(a) The description become more interesting because it will be from your viewpoint character’s eyes.

(b) The language of the description will reflect your viewpoint character (versus your own author voice).

(c) The reader becomes more involved in the description because it will have a more emotional element.

Here’s an excerpt from the original version of my manuscript, The Corinthian Rules (which got completely rewritten into Only Uni):

“All right, you lovely single ladies, come on up for the bouquet toss.”

Rats. She should have sneaked off to the restroom earlier.

Trish Sato ducked to hide from the sweeping gaze of the Master of Ceremonies, her skeletal Uncle Charley. He stood at the front of the large banquet room in his rumpled black tuxedo, his wisps of wiry grey hair floating several inches above his near-bald head. Light from the overhead fluorescent fixtures glared on his oversized glasses as he swung his head back and forth, seeking innocent maidens to capture.

(Not the most original of descriptions, I’m rather embarrassed at how cliché much of it is. But hey, I wrote it 6 years ago.)

You’ll notice a small bit of emotional involvement in the description, because Uncle Charley is shown as “seeking innocent maidens to capture,” and only a single woman like Trish would think of him that way—her mother or aunties certainly wouldn’t think that.

However, the emotion there is minimal at best.

Here’s the rewrite for a short story I’m working on (I offered the new, revised short story as a freebie for my newsletter subscribers, which was why I revived this monstrosity):

Rats. She should have sneaked off to the restroom earlier.

“All right, you lovely single ladies, come on up for the bouquet toss.”

Trish Sakai dropped her head to hide behind Aunt Amber’s permed curls, nearly dunking her chin in her rice bowl. Had Uncle Charley seen her? Hopefully he couldn’t see much of anything through his oversized glasses and the glare from his near-bald head.

She peeked around Aunt Amber, risking a quick glance at the front of the large banquet room. The skeletal Master of Ceremonies hovered in his rumpled black tuxedo, so she ducked back before he saw her. Why hadn’t someone stopped him from those last few shots of sake? Then he wouldn’t be so aggressive about the bouquet toss now. He swung his head back and forth, seeking innocent maidens to capture.

You’ll notice more action and more of Trish’s emotional reactions (primarily through her thoughts) to the description sentences.

Go through your own manuscript and look for descriptions. Are they simply descriptions, or do they spring from the viewpoint character’s eyes and thoughts?

Go deep in revisions, not first drafts.

This will vary from writer to writer, but in general, it’s usually best to deepen point of view in your revisions. In your first draft, just slap those words down on the page and don’t worry about point of view at all.

Just lay it down and come back to revise it later. You might even be surprised at the kinds of things you come up with.

Camy Tang writes romance with a kick of wasabi. Her novels Single Sashimi and Deadly Intent are out now. She runs the Story Sensei critique service, is a staff worker for her church youth group, and leads one of the worship teams for Sunday service. On her blog, she gives away Christian novels every week and ponders frivolous things. Sign up for her newsletter YahooGroup for monthly giveaways!

CONFESSIONS OF A POV QUEEN

Okay, lock the door and pull down the shades—today we’re talkin’ multiple POVs. Yeah, yeah, I know, we’re all gonna have to go to confession afterwards, but that’s the price you have to pay for taking risks. Not mortal-sin caliber risks, mind you, just the venial-sin variety … ya know, the kind that feel a little bit naughty but really aren’t all that bad?

So let’s talk POV (the “point of view” from which a story is written). There are a lot of options out there, but basically the top three utilized today are:

• Omniscient: A story told from the viewpoint of the author or God rather than through a character. (Example: Rebecca Overton didn’t know it, but her life was about to change forever.)
  


• First Person: A story told from one character’s POV utilizing the pronoun “I.” (Example: I didn’t realize it at the time, but my life was about to change forever.)



• Third Person: Utilizes pronouns like "he" and "she" (versus "I") and is most prevalent in commercial fiction at this time. (Example: He knew she didn’t realize it, but he was about to change her life forever.)

When I starting writing romance a number of years ago, I knew that Third Person was the prevalent POV for romance novels, but until I entered contests, I didn’t know that the cardinal rule was only one POV per scene. Everything that was thought, felt or seen in a scene had to be through one person’s viewpoint, either the hero’s or the heroine’s. The reason for this is that if not done properly, utilizing more than one POV per scene can cause confusion with “head-hopping—seeing the scene through one character’s eyes and then suddenly switching to seeing it through another character’s eyes in the next sentence or paragraph. (Example: Laura sighed, wishing he would kiss her. Jonah wanted to so badly, but she’d burned him once and he wasn’t going down the road again.)

Not only can headhopping totally confuse the reader, but it can kill the momentum of your scene and, quite frankly, is the kiss of death in a contest or a proposal. As a result, many romance novels today alternate with one scene in the heroine’s POV and then the next scene in the hero’s POV, but few utilize multiple POVS in the same scene. Now I guess that’s okay for a lot of authors, but I’m sorry, when it comes to love scenes, I’m the type of gal who wants it full throttle—yeah, I want to know what she’s thinking, feeling or desiring … but I also want to crawl inside his mind, too, and get it in stereo. I mean, come on, romance is just too good to be one-sided, right?

Yeah, but.

Okay, I know what you’re thinking—better follow the rules till I get published. And, yes, there are any number of reasons you’ve been told that multiple POVs don’t work, such as the head-hopping confusion factor or that multiple POVs might reduce tension (not a good thing!) by letting you know too much about the characters, how they feel, think every step of the way. But I learned from a very wise editor that if you follow a few simple rules, you can experience a freedom and depth with characterization that a one-POV scene cannot provide. For me personally, multiple POVs have helped me to increase tension, explore characters and motivation in more depth, and deepen the readers' emotional involvement with the hero and the heroine by getting inside both of their heads during a tense or romantic scene.

What I like to do for drama’s sake is to flesh out a scene in one POV for a number of pages and then during a pivotal or dramatic point, BOOM, switch POVs! The best way to do this with clarity and avoid head-hopping is to adhere to a few simple rules:

1.) Always double-space to indicate a change of POV.
2.) Always begin the next POV with an action by the character whose POV is beginning.
3.) Keep your POV switches to a minimum within a scene and always flesh out each POV with several paragraphs or pages (i.e. NEVER switch POVs with every sentence or paragraph).

In the following love scene from A Passion Most Pure, I switched POVs three times—from the heroine’s POV to the hero’s and then back to the heroine’s again, but I think it heightens the drama, at least it does for me. See if you like it, and if you do, you may just find that for you, breaking the one-POV-per scene rule is not such a sin.

I’d love your thoughts about your favorite POV or multiple POVs, so let us know. I will be out of pocket most of the day, but I will check in this evening. Meanwhile, the rest of The Seekers will be on hand to share their “points of view.” Have a blessed day!

***

Through her eyelids, she could feel rather than see the flickering sun as it danced and shimmered between the fluttering leaves of the massive oak overhead. Intermittently its warmth was stolen for a moment, as it was now, by a stray cloud in an otherwise perfect sky. Somewhere high in the canopy of boughs, a mockingbird chattered, luring a smile to Faith’s lips as she rested, content in her wait for the warmth to return.

"You know, there's a good chance you could burn those beautiful legs."

Lord above, she was paralyzed, unable to move anything but her eyelids, which flew open in utter horror. She blinked, sunlight blinding her eyes to a shadowy figure standing over her. Collin McGuire.

He assessed her bare legs with a grin, which promptly produced an onslaught of heat in her cheeks. "I'd be careful, you know. Looks like your face is pretty red too."

All paralysis gone, Faith yanked her skirt down and shielded her eyes from the sun. She stared up at him for the first time in over three years. Oh, God, please don't let him see me shaking. With a sweaty palm, she clutched at her dress.

Methodically, he sat down on the blanket beside her, his long legs stretched out next to her own. He leaned back, tugged at a piece of grass and put the stem in his mouth. He chewed it slowly, deliberately.

Her breath hitched in her throat. "What are you doing?" she stuttered, inching to the far edge of the blanket.

Collin turned to face her, his gray eyes nonchalant. "Sittin'." He looked away, tilting his face to the sun as if being there were the most natural thing in the world.

She stared hard at his jawline, clean and strong. Warmth washed over her. Her pulse raced chaotic. "I don't understand––did you follow me?"

"Uh-huh."

"But why?"

He sat straight up and shifted to face her, no pretense in his eyes. The blade of grass continued to rotate in his lips. He plucked it from his mouth. "Honestly? I came here to vent. I was pretty mad, angry that you made it difficult for me to see your sister. I'm quite fond of her, you know, and hope to see more of her. Why’d you tell your parents you saw us on the porch?"

Faith blinked and looked away. She felt as if he could read her mind, and it made her uneasy. She shivered. "I didn't mean to, honestly I didn't. It just … well, it just … came out. We were fighting, and Charity said something hurtful. Then I did. And then I said that …"

When he didn't answer, she straightened her shoulders and thrust her chin to stare at him boldly––then caught her breath. He was only inches away, and she’d forgotten the mesmerizing effect of those eyes, so serene and light. They were a striking shade of gray, not quite blue, and as clear and deep as the purest spring. Her mother often remarked how eyes were the windows to the soul. Faith stared into the depths of his now and felt as if she were staring into the inner sanctum of Collin McGuire. The blade of grass was back between his teeth. His gaze locked with hers, and a strange calm came over her. At the same time, her heart accelerated, a paradox that confused and frightened her.

His smile faded as he stared back, transfixed, almost as if he, too, felt the startling connection.

Abruptly, she turned away, her fingers grasping at her hair to push it from her face. "I suppose it shocked me … seeing you with Charity like that. She's only sixteen. And you're twenty-one …"He didn’t respond and she looked up. The deadly smile had reappeared. Another rush of warmth invaded her cheeks. "My parents aren't comfortable with that," she said.

Collin reached for an acorn and rolled its nubby hull between his forefinger and thumb. He certainly hadn’t expected this, to find himself enjoying Charity’s meddling sister. Suddenly he was following her every move with fascination. He tossed the nut in the air. "And what about you? How’s your comfort level?"

It was like watching a scene in a play. He remembered her from high school, of course, and the memory broadened the smile on his lips. But he hadn't noticed how pretty she was. She’d grown up a lot since then. Gone were the steel braces that had shackled the legs of a fragile ten-year-old little girl who’d looked as if the next breeze would wisp her away. Even as a freshman, she’d been skinny and gangly with haunting green eyes. But now … He grinned, allowing his eyes to rove the length of her. He could tell by the blush on her cheeks that his gaze made her uncomfortable. He didn’t care. It was too much fun studying her––the slightly upturned nose, the delicately sculpted face, the glint of sun in the red-gold hair. And the eyes––as green as a field of grass with tiny specks of gold scattered throughout.

Her head jerked up and the green eyes glittered. "Me? I don't give a fig what you do or with whom you do it," she snapped. "Except for Charity. She's too young.”

The eyes had him riveted. There was something about Faith O’Connor that stirred him and he wasn't sure why. Charity's appeal far surpassed that of the pretty girl who sat beside him, and yet … there was something deeper he couldn't explain. Something he’d never experienced in the countless encounters he'd known. It thrilled him—and scared him––all at once.

He batted the acorn high in the sky and looked away, squinting at the sun. "Too young?" He spit out the chewed blade of grass to emphasize his point, his heart beating faster than usual. “Not from my vantage point.”

With great difficulty, he kept his breathing steady and calm, his eyes indifferent. Well, well, Collin McGuire, this is certainly uncharted territory for you. And although he desperately wanted to explore it, something stopped him cold. Faith O'Connor had the feel of a girl who could put a stranglehold on his heart. That was a path he preferred to avoid. His smile eased into arrogance. “As a matter of fact, I’d say she’s the perfect age.”

She shot off the blanket and glared down at him, elbows flaring at her side. "You leave her alone! She's not one of your common girls at Brannigan’s. She's a good girl. Too good for the likes of you."

“Too good for the likes of you …” The words of his mother assaulted his memory, flaming the fuse. Springing to his feet, he towered over her and gripped her shoulders, fingers digging in. For an instant, it appeared as if she didn’t dare breathe. "Don't ever say that again," he whispered, his jaw hard as rock. Fury pulsed in his temple. He tightened his grip. "Too good for the likes of me, is she now? Well then, what about you, Faith O’Connor? Are you too good for the likes of me?"

She caught her breath just before his lips found hers, and he felt the fight within her as he locked her in his arms. The taste of her mouth was so heady to his senses, a soft moan escaped his lips at the shock of it. She shivered before she went weak in his arms, and instinctively, he softened his hold.

She lunged back and clipped the edge of his jaw with a tight-fisted punch, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “How dare you—” she sputtered, the green eyes full of heat.

He grinned and silenced her with his mouth. She made a weak attempt to push him away, but he only drew her back with a force that made her shudder. He felt her pulse racing as his lips wandered her throat. The scent of her drove him mad. He kissed her with renewed urgency, the taste of her making him dizzy. And then, before she could catch her breath, he shoved her away, his heart thundering and his mind paralyzed.

Faith reeled, nearly losing her balance. She swayed on her feet, breathless and weak, not trusting herself to speak. She had dreamed of his lips on hers, written pages of poetry about it. And now here it was, and she couldn’t utter a syllable. Collin seemed bewildered, almost disoriented, rubbing his jaw with the side of his hand. His breathing was shallow and rapid, and she could tell he was trying to compose himself, to regain the casual confidence so much a part of who he was.

His voice was gruff when he spoke. "Look, I'm sorry … you made me angry.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. His mouth slanted into a wary smile. “Again.”