I'm typically an interracial romance writer, and I usually stick with contemporary. However, I noticed that my style changes depending on the characters I use. BW/WM : Black Woman/White Man BW/AM: Black Woman/ Asian Man I don't think it's on purpose; it just happens. This could be why I'm having so much trouble with BW/AM because it's stylistically different from my WM/BW, which is what I'm used to writing. See, this is from "In the Office", which BW/WM: Dru Hughes hardly was a domineering type; she could barely get her dog to get off the couch, even when she stamped her foot to "emphasize" her point. The animal, like most people, would look at her as though it just inwardly rolled its eyes. She was the very bottom of the dog-eat-dog food chain. But there was man she could easily control; whenever he was around and it was time to play, she came out. She didn't have a spilt-personality or an alter ego (it amazed her that some people even still had those); it was like a primal instinct over took her body. The shy, scared, tender woman took a break and let this creature take over anytime that that man came near her. That man in particular was currently walking briskly down the office corridor; he walked with a smile--more like a smirk--on his face. He talked to their fellow co-workers easily, unwavered, not a hint of any discomfort in his smooth voice. One of his pale hands ran through his messy, almost platinum blond hair in a relaxed way. And this from my Nano, which is BW/AM: (Sorry about the formatting and spelling errrors). Kennedy pushed the large, green curtains opens, and turned the chalkboard “Closed” sign to “Open”, signaling that she was open for business. She sipped lightly from the steaming hot tea in her green mug. She had only been open for a few months now. But given how popular Starbucks, Dunkin’ Donuts, and all of those other name brands were, she felt she was doing very for herself. Her regulars would she come in along eight o’clock for their usual black coffee, no sugar, two creams, and a small muffin before dashing back out the door, going to work. Sometimes shed a get few people to come in on their laptops, blackberries, and other technology, some doing business deals, some writing novels, and others just goofing off because they could afford too. However, she could’ve just clicked her heels at the thought of having regular customers. She walked behind the counter, and leaned against it. It was usually slow in the early mornings, at six, and late night, around midnight. Most people kind of just dragging themselves along, forcing themselves to wake up for the day’s(or night’s) work. After the last piece of invisible dust and dirt was swept and thrown away, she’d switch the sign, pull the curtains, and go to the back of the shop where the “house” portion was. She usually curled up with some chamomile or sleepy time tea as catched the last few minutes of “The Jerry Springer Show”. Most people wouldn’t suspect that was one of her guiltiess pleasures, but that show, a good cup of tea, maybe some pizza, and that would a be a night to live for. Her toes curled up in her white flats. She alaredy had the green apron with her store’s name and logo marked on the front. Car after car after car passed by the large set of windows. It busier than usual. Probably some kind of party this weekend, joy, she thought sarcastically while rolling her dark brown colored eyes. It wasn’t that she hated to party; she was young. She liked to have to a night out on the town with her friends. What she hated where the drunk idiots in the middle screaming how they didn’t want to go home and nobody loved them at four o’clock in the freakin’ morning. A small shiver ran through her body at the memory of Spring Break weekend the last year. The small bell that hung from the front door chimed as her best-friend and part-time co-worker walked in breezily. “I’m so sorry I’m late,” Paige said, quickly tying the apron around her body and pulling her long tan brown her back into a ponytail. “I had to help this guy in my physics class with something, and then traffic was unbelieveable. You would think there was a funeral or something.” See the difference, or is it just my imagination? Writing "In the Office" was a lot more fun than this. Maybe that's why. I don't know. But gah! I always have trouble writing BW/AM; I don't know why. And I'm not trying to come off as offensive or anything; I'm just trying to get some help here. To even further point out, this stuff is different from my fan fiction I think too.