LOMS Inspiration for Scenes/Characters #1 - Who does Punk represent in your life?

Hello lovely readers. As promised I wanted to give you a little background into Lips on my Soul and the inspiration behind some of the scenes/characters. I did something similar for book 1 – Lips on my Heart, and many of you enjoyed learning about the inspiration for the first sex scene, and who really represented Josephine and Maceo. I pulled from my secret vault of goodies for book 2, and I hope you enjoy the backstories.

I’ve gotten a lot of readers asking about the other members of the MC. Gauge and Opal are a favorite among many, and don’t worry, they will get their moment in the spot light. But today I want to address the growing questions I have been getting in regards to Punk. Book 2 really put him in the spotlight and many readers are crushing on him—what’s not to love? He’s a 6’2” block of lean muscle, covered in tattoos, and a blue-eyed comedic heartthrob.

So who is he to me? Josephine represents my late daughter, and Maceo is a male who I imagined would be good for her. But Punk…I’ve pulled several elements to describe him from none other than my best friend from college. I’ll not be naming names to protect his privacy, but the easy-going, laidback, goal-in-life-is-to-make-you-laugh-your-butt-off demeanor of my dear friend, I’ve instilled into Punk’s character.

I will refer to my friend as “Pete” in this blog. I met Pete my freshman year in college where we ran cross country together. By nature, I tend to keep to myself and observe others. Pete is the polar opposite—he’s the life of the crowd, cracking jokes left and right, always making a spectacle of himself.

Pete would always shout out my name if he saw me across campus or in the commons. He’d run me down if he saw me walking between buildings for classes. He would park his ass at my table if he found me studying in the library. Or he would just randomly show up at my dorm room unannounced. For someone as introverted as myself, this ruffled my feathers at times because I found it difficult to engage in conversation with someone I knew little about and didn’t have anything in common with outside of running—or so I thought.

In hindsight, I probably came across as the biggest bitch with the defensive walls I built around myself. But Pete was persistent, determined to break through my hard shell…something which I’m grateful for as I look back at that time in my life.

You see, at the time that Pete came into my life, I was on a real male-bashing spree. The father of my first born basically told me he didn’t want to be a father, and therefore, left me because my son and I were a package deal. I hid in my room, focusing on my studies, my running, and my son. I was heartbroken, bitter, and angry. This clashed with Pete’s loving and friendly disposition—as well as the fact he was male.

I had returned to my dorm from my weekend trip visiting my son back home with my parents, and Pete was waiting against my dorm door for me. I sighed as I let myself in my room with him rambling a million questions. “How was your weekend? How is your son doing? What did you guys do for fun? Hey, I noticed you haven’t been at the commons or the library the last few weeks. But your boyfriend is there. I asked him where you were and he said he didn’t know. What’s going on? Did he send you up the creek or something?”

Those were his exact words. Did he send you up the creek or something? Can you see how this is reflective in Punk’s character?

Oh, how I love dark humor, but that was the ultimate foot in mouth scenario.

I looked at Pete, deadpan. “As a matter of fact, he did.”

Crickets… Pete’s smile slipped off his face and his mouth hung wide open. “Are you fucking kidding me? Tell me you’re pulling my leg.” He felt so awful about what he had said and was apologizing like crazy.

Something about that moment just had me doubling over in laughter. It was the first time I’d ever seen Pete serious or concerned about anything or anyone—and he was concerned about me. He probably thought I was off my rocker by my behavior, but it was the moment that changed our acquaintanceship to a real meaningful friendship.

Pete refused to let me sulk in the shadows, determined to drag me back out into the public and live my life. Every Sunday when I would get back to campus after spending the weekend back home with my son, Pete would make sure to go to late night mass so he could come visit me in the evenings after I returned. He would drag me to the commons for meals, or to the library to study, or to house parties—whatever he was doing, he made sure to include me. He made me step out of my comfort zone because he cared.

As time went on, we began to lean on each other for support. There were many times Pete would hide out in my dorm to avoid his crazy girlfriend. Several times Pete would lead me away when I ran into my baby-daddy on campus because he knew how much it hurt me. When we moved off campus into apartments, we were a block apart and were at each others’ places all the time making dinners, watching movies, or sharing the latest gossip. We ran road races together during the summer. Celebrated our birthdays with each other. Cheered for each other during college races. Wingman and drink holders for each other at house parties. Bar and dance club buddies. I introduced him to Chinese food and he introduced me to Boone’s Farm. Three AM donut runs and visit to the petting zoo with my son were a normal thing to share together in our friendship. He became a brother to me and an uncle to my eldest son.

When I finally decided to date again, Pete was my biggest supporter, and eager to set me up with someone he felt was a good match for me. Oh, my God, the people he tried setting me up with—I give him an A for effort and D for matching compatibility. He could probably say the same for my matchmaking skills for him too. The important part was that we cared and wanted the other to be happy, even if we sucked at it.

When I met my husband, Pete went into instant protector mode because he didn’t know him. “Who are you? What are your intentions with my friend? How are you with small children? She’s a package deal with her kid. If you’re looking for a good time, turn around and walk out the door—she’s too good for that shit.” But when Pete realized Matt was the real deal, he became the biggest supporter of us as a couple, and was even in our wedding.

Pete and I are still friends to this day even though we rarely see each other. Text messages out of the blue are always a welcoming site, and it doesn’t take us long to pick up right where we left off, like no time had passed. He’s happily married with a beautiful wife and has lovely children. And he still has a very close relationship with my eldest son—forever and always will be his crazy uncle.

I’m sure if he were to read this blog post, he would know I’m talking about him. And if this is the case, Pete, I want you to know you were one of the few supporters I had during one of the darkest moments of my life—thank you for never giving up on me and our friendship.

Punk and Pete look nothing alike, but the heart and soul of my college best friend, lives and breathes in Punk’s character. Because of the close relationship Josephine shares with Punk, it was very natural to pull elements of the friendship I shared with Pete, and use them in forming Punk. Punk has crazy wit and a bad habit of getting himself into disastrous situations. He’s loving, loyal, and always up for a challenge.

I can’t wait for you lovely readers to get more acquainted with Punk. You’re going to absolutely love his novel when it comes out. I've attached some images of what I see Punk looking like.