The Fisticuffs Bird

birds-26I have a fisticuffs bird sitting on my left shoulder.

I blame the 1980’s television crime drama.

Alright, maybe a touch of early 90’s fare.

And there is definitely a skoch of late 70’s in there because “Starsky and Hutch” can never, ever be left out.

Let me explain.

As a writer of romance, I find myself always wanting to put some “gritty” action into my little love-nest stories.  For example…

Character A and Character B like one another. There’s a passing attraction (A’s got a great ass and B’s eyes are rather dreamy), but nothing either bloke/lass/whatever-gender-choice would go to great extremes to do anything about. But…

Throw in a car chase (with squealing tires, jumping cars and guns shooting blanks out car windows)…

Toss in a couple of fistfights (that leave everybody breathing hard and sexy but nobody but the bad guys actually bruised and battered)…

And voila!  Characters A and B are now hot and heavy all over one another, vowing to give their last breaths just to make the other smile.

End credits roll.

You may laugh (go ahead and chortle up a lung), but I have to constantly fight not to toss in this gratuitous G-rated violence into my gratuitous X-rated ballads.

Yes, the fisticuffs bird on my left shoulder is strong, my friend.

I blame Stephen J. Cannell, Michael Mann and CBS.

End credits roll.

Until tomorrow…



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