When writing in the ‘espionage’ genre (or any genre for that matter) so many specific conventions litter the floor. Sometimes they’re simply reader expectations that must be met. Other times they’re tropes or clichés which could be embraced but perhaps should be avoided or even subverted. (I like the subversion part . . . if you can get away with it.)

One of the expectations in an action/espionage thriller is for the handsome heroic male character to be the main protagonist and to be somewhat molded in the ‘James Bond’ style. I knew right away when I began writing Mother Russia I wanted to go in a completely new and different direction. My main protagonist was going to be female – and not some gender-bending male-fantasy badass of some sort. I wanted a character who would hopefully introduce a new way of exploring the genre to the readers which was fresh, exciting and real. From there I decided, if I could create a compelling, deep and long-lasting romantic relationship for her it would give huge strength for the story, providing natural agency, motivation, pathos and believable emotions to the action which IMO the genre so often desperately needs.

In the end, I elected to go with both characters as quasi-dual leads, taking inspiration from a series which mined the relationship possibilities of dual protagonists to perfection.

I loved Diana Gabaldon’s characters of BOTH Claire AND Jamie in her Outlander series . . . in fact, her books work best when those two are together as a team (or trying to get back there anyway.) One of the most intriguing challenges of writing Mother Russia then became to create TWO fully formed characters, male and female, and give them both a reason to not only be together but to to become bonded to each other both here and in all future books. I wanted the relationship to define both of these characters, but especially the male, who I wanted women readers to care for (and often laugh at) while at the same time keeping him serious and relevant for male readers to admire and see themselves as.

So I decided I wanted a strong but common American name.

Cole was actually a fairly easy choice for his surname. Short, one syllable, easily recognizable and pronounced, generic American from wherever and easy for folks to refer to him by if they so chose. The inspiration for it actually came from the 1984 movie The Bounty with Anthony Hopkins and Mel Gibson. When the mutiny finally takes place in the movie and Bligh is awakened from his cabin by the mutineers, Hopkins screams over and over again for his bosun ‘Mr. Cole’, a moment so horrifically terrifying as filmed, it stuck with me years later. Go figure.

I went through common American first names for the character (Richard/ ‘Rick’ was an early contender) before quickly settling on Jon. Yes, it might be the most generic American name possible, which is why I made it short for Jonathan and spelled without the ‘h’. It just sounded right in my head, or rather in Tasia’s voice when she spoke of or to him.

Jon has many of the expected characteristics of the genre: lethal badass, absurdly handsome and possessing a serious hero complex. Instead of playing these as normative expectations, however, in Jon’s case they’re actually character flaws, things which prevent him from living a normal life which he only begins to realize in Mother Russia that he really wants. In fact, his ‘heroic lethal assassin’ qualities takes a back seat in the novel to his far more human and vulnerable side, especially as he gradually comes to realize Tasia is the real hero and leader in their relationship.

Tasia ends up calling him many other names as the novel progresses, something I had a blast playing with. When they first meet again after their twenty-plus year separation she calls him ‘Edmund’, a reference to The Count of Monte Cristo, the book they read aloud to each other in French during their week long hotel-bound affair back then. (He does call her ‘Mercedes’ as well.) She begins calling him ‘fucking American’ when things get tense, before finally discovering her preferred term shortly thereafter . . .

“Tasia, please don’t be like this,” Jon said. “I did what I had to do to save our lives.”

“I know that govnyuk,” she said. The blood was beginning to crust on his face and neck, making it difficult to wipe off.

“So ‘shithead’ is my new name now? I was growing rather fond of ‘fucking American’ actually.”

“I know what you were doing, govnyuk, and I am glad you succeeded,” Tasia said as she rubbed harder. “I am just not ready to forgive you for making me think you were abandoning me by dying.”

“Tasia, you should know I would never do that.”

“Should! Yes, I goddamn well should!”

After the two characters reunite, they stay together for the entirety of Mother Russia, with their relationship forming the backbone of why the reader should care about them. We want them together, especially because of their differences, even though Jon has a long-term girlfriend back home who turns out to be a major supporting character in her own right.

Did I mention things were complicated? More on that next time . . .