He did it!

No question about it.

Seb's my hero.

I don't know how he's going to deal with Neely. Frankly, I don't care.

All I know is, after standing there last night watching me flail about and bang my head against my computer in frustration, he said, "Let me" -- in just the right tone of voice.

No condescension. No "I can do it better than you, stupid woman." No "move over and let the expert at it."

Just a quiet, "Let me." With even a hint of question in his voice.

Who knew he had it in him to be tactful?

So I let him. I'm a sucker for polite.

He didn't know how to do it either. Not at first. And he did a bit of cursing under his breath and muttering about software design and more especially about the folks who write manuals without telling you anything you want to know. But he persevered.

I got on with writing my book review for another project, and periodically I checked with him. Once, early on, he kind of smiled wryly and said, "Why isn't Flynn Murray doing this? It's his book."

Which it is -- I needed to put up the cover for One-Night Love Child on my website, which is what started all of this.

But before I could reply, he said, "Never mind. We're almost there."

And, amazingly enough, we were.

Or he was. Anyway, he did it!

He got the colors matched and the layers fiddled with and a little consultation between him and my webmistress, and voila, we have a cover -- on the website, properly tilted, with the right color background. And a preliminary contest page, too. He got them both up -- despite the error messages and "you can't do that" flashing signs.

My hero. Mr Competence.

Kate Walker would tell you that's one of the hallmarks of an Anne McAllister hero. He gets the job done. He is -- whatever else he might not be -- competent.

I owe Seb a story for that.

He just lifted one of those very expressive brows and said, "Oh, yeah? I do you a good deed and you think that gives you license to make me suffer?"

Obviously he had been listening to our discussion about what makes a hero great.

"Not suffer," I said. "Well not much. Only so you'll grow. Change. Become more than you already are."

"More?" he said. The brow hiked a little higher. Then that gorgeous knee-wobbling grin flashed at me. "As in . . . even bigger?"

Men!

Of course, I ignored him. "Scram!"

He was still laughing when he went out of the room.

But now that he's gone, I can tell you that I do admire competence in a hero. And honor -- and a sense of humor.

Yes, I think Seb will make it as a hero, after all.

In the meantime, let me know what you think about a hero with a sense of humor. Does it work for you? Or not?

Is passion serious stuff? Too serious to laugh? Why? Why not?