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Thanks so much for having me back to chat about the second book in my Mer series, Wild Blue Under. In In Over Her Head, Erica, a Human who’s afraid of the ocean finds herself in it at gunpoint. Then she gets shot, a shark arrives, she gets rescued by sexy Merman Reel, and off they go to find the diamonds, defeat the sea monster and live happily ever after. A Human-in-the-sea story.
Wild Blue Under, however, is the classic (and literal) fish-out-of-water story. Merman Rod, Heir to the throne, must come onto land to retrieve the lost half-Mer princess who lives in Kansas and doesn’t have a clue that she’s A) a princess, B) lost, and C) half-Mer. She thinks she’s allergic to the ocean.
Readers have embraced my undersea world, but now we’re on land. Will they embrace this one? But wait—the books are about a Mer world and yet it’s on land? What world am I creating in Kansas?
World-building isn’t just topography and buildings. It’s the rules of the world, its inhabitants, their situations, and their history.
So, for this story, I added some busybody sparrows who have a feather in saving the day, a mercenary albatross who isn’t quite what he seems, some dive-bombing peregrines, a murder of crows—in every sense of that phrase—and a bad guy who might just have reason. And many of the characters from In Over Her Head show up—not on land, of course—because what would a Mer story be without the sea?
When I wrote Wild Blue Under, I purposely set out not to write the same story I’d already done because how many times can you have a Human end up in the ocean, discover Mers and Atlantis, and make their reaction fresh and new? Most would freak out then find it interesting, so I covered that in the first book. Therefore, I had to change the venue. Voila! The Mer heads to land. And now I get to see another side of their world. I had no idea when I wrote In Over Her Head that Mers had an Air Security Agency. If I’d thought about it, I probably would have, but it wasn’t a necessary element then. Wild Blue Under? Whole different story. (Pun intended.)
Did I know there’s a special oil from the gods for Mers who go on land to keep their legs for more than the two-sunset stipulation I’d already created? Nope. Not until I got to the point that Rod needed it and a little birdy whispered in my ear—probably Maybelle. She knew a lot about the story that I didn’t, including her existence. I remember when her introduction just appeared on my screen. I had no idea what her purpose was, who she was, or why she was there. I kept writing, though, and allowed her her vignettes. Then, all of a sudden, there was her purpose. She’d known it all along and, yes, she did crow about it when it finally happened.
Here’s a little snippet from Maybelle:
“Hello, boys.” Maybelle tried to put as much tail action into her swagger as her sparrow’s body would allow. At times like this, she wouldn’t mind being as svelte as those doves who had come in from out of town last year for a Human wedding.
The cowbirds stopped pacing along the church’s verdigris roof. “Ma’am?”
She hated that. Made her feel like someone’s doting old auntie.
“Oh, please,” she twittered, affecting the same pose she’d seen that pristine (prissy, actually) dove do that had gotten all the males fluttering after her. “Do call me Maybelle.” She added a little blinking action, going for the dumb and wide-eyed look—also courtesy of that dove.
Either she’d done it right, or these cowbirds hadn’t seen a female in, like, forever. One of the cow-boys strutted past her, leaving the package he’d been guarding unattended.
Success.
“Hello there, Maybelle,” said the avian, “you’re looking quite pretty. Did you just molt?”
Maybelle restrained herself from laughing. Molt. Sheesh. No wonder this guy was ripe for her ploy—no way was he getting any action with that line.
But she played along, hoping the other would find her just as irresistible.
Oh, not for anything remotely physical. No, she needed the cowbirds distracted from the bags of metal tacks they were guarding so Adele could switch them out with the replacement washers and nuts they’d collected. She knew what sharp metal would do to car tires. Valerie and the Mer prince didn’t deserve that and the albatross didn’t deserve to win.
And wouldn’t she be the heroine when the girls on the park bench heard about this? They’d be a-twitter for seasons to come.
© Judi Fennell, Sourcebooks Casablanca, 2009
You can see excerpts and deleted scenes, as well as register to win one of my two remaining Romantic Beach Getaway Weekends on my website, www.JudiFennell.com.
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-- Lynda Again,
Judi and Sourcebooks, her publisher, have generously offered TWO prizes for our readers. To qualify, leave a comment AND send me an email lyndak.scott@gmail.com with 1) Wild Blue Under in the subject line 2) and your name and address in the body of the email by Friday. Sorry, the contest is open only to those who live in the USA or Canada. I'll announce the winners then. Good luck to all!
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