Today it's my pleasure to present an interview of romance author Sable Hunter.
I would like to promote Burning Love because my next book will be its sequel. It will be called Forget Me Never. It is the second book in the Cajun Spice series.Buy Link: http://www.amazon.com/Burning-Love-Cajun-Spice-ebook/dp/B0088UXIEO/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1345426185&sr=1-1&keywords=burning+love
BIO: Sable Hunter writes erotic romance. She writes what she likes to read and enjoys putting her fantasies on paper. Her stories are emotional reads where the heroine is faced with challenges, like one of her favorite songs – she’s holding out for a hero – and boy, can she deliver a hero. Her aim is to write a story that will make you laugh, cry and sweat. If she can wring those emotions out of a reader, then she has done her job.
She grew up in south Louisiana along the mysterious bayous where the Spanish moss hangs thickly over the dark waters. The culture of Louisiana has shaped her outlook on life and made its way into her novels where the supernatural is entirely normal. Presently, Sable lives in Texas and spends most of her time in wild and wonderful Austin.
She is passionate about animals and has been known to charm creatures from a one ton bull to a family of raccoons. For fun, Sable has been known to haunt cemeteries and battlefields armed with night-vision cameras and digital recorders hunting proof that love survives beyond the grave.She writes for Secret Cravings Publishing as well as publishes much of her own work.
Join her in her world of magic, alpha heroes, sexy cowboys and hot, steamy, to-die-for sex. Step into the shoes of her heroines and escape to places where dreams can come true and orgasms only come in multiples.
Q. What part of the book is easiest for you to write?
A. The easiest part of each book to write is the love. I mean everything about the love, the sex, the falling, the hardship, the resolution, the butterfly-filled hopefulness that makes you plan forever and pick out china patterns. I LOVE writing that because that is how I like to feel. I like to grab on to those dreams of mine, my essence, my fantasies and watch them come to life in front of me. I think that is the part my readers enjoy the most as well; they can tell my passion and soul gets poured into those pieces and they feel it, too. I have readers tell me they felt like they were in the room with my characters. That is unreal! I love it so much.
Q. Who is your favorite character in your book and why?
A. That is so hard. I think it is Aron McCoy. The hero from the first book in the Hell Yeah! Series, Cowboy Heat. He is the eldest brother of the renowned Texas McCoys and has begun to be recognized by everyone in my little universe as the quintessential alpha male. He is the guy everyone runs to for help. He is the protector, the provider. He is, under the stone exterior, sweet as a kitten. There is a passage in CH where Aron says one word in front of his family and everybody (all those massive, stunningly-beautiful cowboys) know instantly that this woman belongs to Aron.
On top of that, I can’t seem to let him go! He has made an appearance in almost every book I wrote and will definitely be a huge part of the future of the Tebow Ranch. In fact, (I don’t want to give too much away) there is a HUGE event coming up that will cross my books over and Aron will play a central role in it. Look out for it. . .
Q. If one of your books became a movie, which celebrity would you like to star as one of your heroes?
A. That’s a toughie, also. I pick Joe Manganiello. For those of you not in the know, Joe is a star in HBO’s TrueBlood. Wow, his body is just perfect. He is 6’5” and weighs like 235 lbs. He is drool-worthy. His muscles would intimidate warriors. His brooding eyes penetrate my soul and then loiter around for a few hours after. His scruff makes the whole look raw and natural and primal. It makes me come alive. The best part about Joe is, if you pay attention, you can almost see how tender-hearted he is coming through in his mannerisms. I bet he loves his momma and knows how to treat a woman right. I feel like Campbell’s Soup, Mmm, mmm, good. . .
Q. What hobby do you enjoy when not writing?
A. This is a secret, so please don’t tell anyone. I really enjoy ghost-hunting. I like to get a digital camcorder, or an audio recorder, maybe some night-vision goggles and stalk around cemeteries or old abandoned homes in the middle of the night, hoping I stumble across something spectral. The supernatural has been in my family for a dozen generations and it has not died out with me. Something about it, the magic, unknown, eternity, danger, I’m not sure exactly what, just draws me in at a level that I can’t fully comprehend and certainly can’t control. As much as I try, I can’t keep the supernatural out of my books. My next one, “Forget Me Never,” the second book in my “Cajun Spice” series, will have a particularly large helping of the paranormal in it. I think that it is part of me, part of the culture that I am trying to create, and part of the characters that inhabit my world.
Q. What is your strongest point as a writer?
A. That one is easy. The only reason I am a writer and enjoy it so much, is the same thing that gives me what strengths and accolades I have. I put myself in the stories. Every heroine is me. Each tidbit of detail I have seen. Each event is a fantasy of mine. Each barrier is a fear. Even the heroes are the men in my life; Jess is a big part of it, my Uncle, my Father, are all in the books. Each emotion is huge in my stories and that is because I really felt it. Each heartbreak is horrid, because it actually made me weep. The characters are relatable because they are real. The dreams are so fantastical because they actually are my fantasies, however unrealistic or silly they seem to anybody else. They really captured at least one person, me. That investment, the love I have for my creation, that is my strongest point.
Q. What genre would you like to try writing in but haven’t done so? Why?
A. I am very interested in writing historical romance. I love history. I love the culture of where I am from. The stories of the beginning of Texas and Louisiana captivate me. The time seems so romantic. I can imagine the forbidden love stories hidden in the gardens of a plantation, or on the trails of a cattle-drive. I like the idea of cultures mixing, the French, Spanish, English, and Native peoples warring and loving and making a place and a name for themselves. One of the biggest things that interest me, (and one you may have noticed) is the dynamic between men and women that differed. My heroes are big, powerful dominant men, that find the love of a woman that brings them to their knees and discover sweetness, gentleness and kindness they never knew before. My women are strong, yet appreciate a dominant man that takes charge and protects her. My women are real women and want a man that is a real man. There are animals in my characters. I would like to write about a time when men and women were animals. That excites me. I have not done so yet, because I am in the middle of this story. I have fallen in love with my characters, and many of my readers have as well. I don’t think we are done with them or their stories yet. When everyone’s ending is happy, we can start telling a new story.
Beau's passion burns hot for Harley Montoya. When he discovers that the woman who has inflamed his libido is the girl he fell in love with so long ago in a runaway shelter, he is overcome with joy. But Harley - or Nada as he knew her - has been burned by tragedy. They both live lives full of adventure. He builds custom weaponry and owns a reptile preserve, and she is an EOD expert - Harley defuses bombs for a living. But nothing is more explosive than the love they share.
Beau is determined to show Harley that he is worthy of her trust and that he is willing to protect her from anything that would cause her harm. But Harley has a mad-man on her trail and she can't walk away from her responsibilities. Bombs, alligators, haunted plantations and Louisiana lore spice up their life, and danger and ghosts from their past threatens to tear them apart - but nothing can put out the white-hot flames of their Burning Love.
EXCERPT: Language Warning
“Beau, did you know there is an alligator walking up the gangplank?” Harley couldn’t help herself; she backed up against the wall as the huge reptile lumbered onto the boat. She wasn’t armed and didn’t know if she could shoot the monster if she had the opportunity. He didn’t look hungry, he looked - sort of happy. Still, she wasn’t going to stand still and get eaten. “Beau!” she called. “Please come get me!”
“Awwww, come here, baby.” A door she hadn’t noticed opened up behind her and a strong arm pulled her close to the safest place she had ever known. Harley turned in his arms and nestled close, finding his closeness much more preferable than facing the alligator.
“That’s my gator, Harley. His name is Amos Moses and he doesn’t have a tooth in his head.” Beau planted kisses all over the top of her hair. “I didn’t mean for him to scare you. He doesn’t usually come aboard this time of day.”
Harley turned her head slightly, peeking around. “He doesn’t have any teeth. Why?”
“I’m not real sure, I found him half-starved when he was about three foot long. Somebody had pulled all of his teeth, probably thought they would keep him as a pet. He would have died, if I hadn’t taken him in. He’s lived on ground meat for almost ten years.”
Harley turned in his arms and smiled as the big gator ambled to the back of the boat to a place where he could bask in the sun. “So, he comes and goes as he pleases?” Gradually her heartbeat returned to normal. She became aware that he still held her tight, and she was holding on to his arm like it was her soul’s anchor.
“Yea, he keeps the burglars scared off.” Beau closed his eyes and celebrated the miracle of having Nada, Harley, in his life again. “Come on in, I want to talk. I need to know everything you’ve been doing since I lost you.”
Harley let him draw her into the cabin. “This is beautiful. I’ve never been on a houseboat before.” She was amazed at how nice it was. There was a large leather sectional sofa, a wood-burning fireplace and a fully equipped kitchen.
“I’ll show you the rest of the place in a bit,” yea, he hoped to show her his stateroom up close and personal. “Here, love; I fixed you some hot chocolate. I remember how you loved hot chocolate.” Beau picked up a cup from the bar and handed it to her and as their fingers touched, the memories flashed between them – a chilly day in the French Quarter of New Orleans when Beau bought Nada a cup of warm cocoa to stave off the winter chill.
“Thank you, I can’t believe you remembered.” They sank into the welcoming cushions of the couch and sat close, facing one another – Harley sat with one leg tucked underneath her. Her body was tingling, literally tingling. She tried to attribute it to nerves – but she knew that wasn’t it. Harley was sexually excited. Being this close to Beau and seeing the hunger in his eyes was turning her on. And God, he was aroused. She tried not to look at the bulge in his jeans, but it was really too big to miss.
“It’s all right, baby.” Beau saw where she was looking and he saw her hand tremble. “I can’t help how you make me feel, and I can’t hide it either. You know that old saying – it’s a plain as the nose on your face – well, I have a big nose – and big other parts, too.” He laughed as she ducked her head. God, was she as innocent as she appeared? The thought that she might be untouched excited him no end.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have stared.”
“Look all you want, treasure. It already belongs to you.” He took a sip of the fragrant chocolate. “Drink your cocoa, doll. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” He debated how to start the conversation. Perhaps it was better to start with a safer topic. “Do you need a right or left hand stock?”
She looked relieved, “Right hand and a cheek piece, if you don’t mind. And I would love for you to put some nightforce optics on it.”
“You’re turning me on, you do realize that don’t you?” Beau laughed. “How do you know about nightforce optics?”
“I told you I could shoot.”
When she smiled, his heart skipped a beat. “Can I hold you?”
The question was so unexpected and he spoke so softly and evenly that she thought at first she had misheard him. But when he held out his arms, she realized that he wanted her to sit in his lap. The very thought made her head spin. “You want me . . . . .”
“Damn right, I want you. Come here. I want to be as close to you as possible.”
If it had been anyone but Beau, she wouldn’t have considered it in a million years – but – she did consider it. She even made a move, until something deep inside of her put the brakes on it. Nothing in her body would cooperate. “I can’t, I’m sorry.”
He took the cocoa from her unsteady hand and placed both cups on the side table. “No problem, cher. Is it me, do I make you nervous? That scares the shit out of me, you know.”
“It’s not you. I know you. Don’t think that.”
“You have no reason to be apprehensive, I would never hurt you. You know that, don’t you?” Beau searched her face, but he could read nothing in it. It was very carefully blank. What in the world could be wrong?
“I know that. It’s just too soon. Okay?”
All right, he’d abide by her wishes - mostly. “Can I touch your face? Would that be okay?”
“Oh, my goodness,” she whispered, not sure of what was happening. He waited until she gave her permission. “Sure, I don’t mind.” It was hard to be still. She didn’t know whether to jump in his arms or flee.
Slowly he raised one big hand and with the most gentle of touches ran his thumb over her cheek, then cupped one side of her face. “Now, let me look at you. Yea, there they are - amber eyes. That same sweet little mouth I kissed so long ago. Well, of course, you’re my Nada. Why didn’t I see it before?”
Beau’s voice was so tender, Harley almost cried. “It’s not so bad when you say it.”
“When I say what?” Kiss. He wanted to kiss her so bad. It was hard to think when she was so close.
“Why would that be bad? Isn’t that your name?” Something was bothering her, so he stoked the fire in his blood and gave her his complete attention. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t you know? It means I’m nothing.”
“Nothing?” What did she mean? He was missing something.
“When I was born, I had a caul over my face. Do you know what that is?”
Why did she look ashamed? “Sure, that’s when the baby has a bit of membrane over its face, and people used to believe that child was born with second sight.” Beau watched her press her eyes together and bite her lip. “I don’t understand – that’s a good thing. Old timers around here would say you were blessed.”
He played with the loose material, smoothing the front of her shirt, just anxious to touch her anywhere he could. She covered his hands with her own, stilling the movement of his fingers.
“Hardly. My father thought the veil over my face meant that I was spiritually cursed, that’s why he named me ‘nothing’.”
Damn! “Nothing? That’s what the word nada means? And it wasn’t an accident, he told you that?” Beau wanted to hit something.
“Over and over again – everyday he told me how worthless I was. That’s why I ran away from home when I was thirteen.” That was how she ended up in Brownwood.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he leaned over and kissed her forehead before she could stop him. She didn’t move away, thank God. “I am so sorry. His loss is my gain. Now that I’ve found you again, I’m never letting you go. I’ll admit it – before, I was entranced with you.” His voice was husky and he ran a hand up and down her arm, as if he were trying to soothe away every cruel word that had been said to her. “I fell fuckin’ head over heels for you when I only knew you as sexy Harley. And now I find out that you are the one precious thing in my life I thought I had lost. Do you understand what this means to me? Baby,
I’m holding on to you with both hands. I may never let you out of my sight again.”
His words were like another language, one so foreign that she only recognized a few phrases. But the gentle look in his eyes made her feel safe. Every taunt her father had thrown at her was being made powerless. And before she could protest, he leaned in and captured her lips for a quick kiss and the world stopped turning on its axis. Heat. Peace. Hunger. Emotions that Harley thought she had no claim to, burst forth into her heart. His lips were coaxing and warm and she had to grab the material of his shirt to keep from clinging to his broad, broad shoulders.
“Mmmmmm,” he groaned into her mouth. He couldn’t help it; his hands wouldn’t stay where he put them to save his life. They found their way to her back, coaxing her up against him so there was no doubt in her mind that he was fully engaged – mind as well as body. “Cher, cher – my God, you are like the sweetest honey. I could get so addicted to you.” He had to have more. Hungrily, his lips slid down her neck, nuzzling her throat, scraping his teeth on her skin and sucking enough to leave a tiny mark. He couldn’t remember ever being so instantly voracious for a woman.
With a little whimper of surprise and surrender, Harley tentatively brought her arms around his neck. It was like coming home.
Hallelujah! Beau hugged her. “That’s my girl.” She was gorgeous – she was sexy as hell, a mixture of softness and strength that literally made him ache with longing. “You’re far from nothing. You are a treasure, a precious jewel. You are my all in all.” All the time he was talking, he was rubbing his lips and nose on the side of her face – inhaling her scent – marking her as sure as one the ghost cats of the swamp marked its territory. Black panthers were real. Even though their existence was denied by the authorities, Beau had seen them with his own eyes. When they wanted to claim something as their own, they rubbed their scent on it by passing their mouth across the object – leaving a brand of possession – the same way he was marking Harley.
Her body hungered while her mind whirled at the myriad of wondrous things she was feeling. So this was what she had been missing - this amazing need to belong to someone. But. . . but. . what if? God, what if she couldn’t? What if he couldn’t? She put her hands up between them – pushing back – making a space between them. “Stop, Beau.”
“Too fast?” She nodded her head, slightly. “I understand, baby. We’re not strangers – but, it has been years.” He had no intention of rushing her. She was just too precious.
“There’s so much you don’t know,” she whispered.
“You can tell me anything,” he nudged her face with his, his lips grazing her skin.
“I want to. Beau. . . . .” She was just about to - Lord, she didn’t know what she was about to say – when her beeper sounded and made her bounce in his embrace like a Mexican jumping bean. Immediately his arms tightened around her.
“I gotcha’ precious,” he kissed her neck. “Whoever is calling you, tell them you are otherwise occupied – with me.”
Harley looked down – Shit! “As much as I would like to stay – I have to take care of this – duty calls.”
Casting aside her doubts, she laid her head on his shoulder and hugged him tight. “This has been wonderful. I can’t tell you what it means to find you again. Thank you, for everything.”
She started to get up, but he stopped her. “Hey, wait a minute. Are you sure you have to go?” He wasn’t ready for their evening to be over – not by a long shot. Would he ever tire of looking at her face? High cheekbones, a sweetly curved jaw, and a pair of lips capable of transporting him to paradise – each feature was pleasing to the eye, but combined - they were lethal to his self-control. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”
“I’m not,” she protested, even as she placed her hands on his biceps – half-heartedly keeping him at a distance. “Thank you for saying so, though. I wish I didn’t have to go. It’s my job – there’s an emergency.”
He let her get up, reluctantly. “Okay, I’ll take you home.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it.” As she gathered her things, her mind was already racing ahead wondering where she would have to go and what she would have to face. “I’m sorry to rush off like this.”
“It’s okay, Honey.” She seemed worried. And that worried him. “Do you want to talk about it?”
They hurried down the gangplank and onto the dock. Harley was aware of her surroundings – the cypress knees, the Spanish moss – it was all so beautiful and she wished she could stay and not face whatever new horror some maniac had devised to blow people up. “It’s a long story and I will tell you about it, I promise.” He opened the door for her and hurried around, realizing she was anxious.
She was texting on her phone when he got behind the wheel, so he started up and gunned it – not wanting to disturb her focus. When she finished, he pressed again. “When will you be back?” Damn, he felt possessive – “I told you I didn’t want to let you out of my sight.”
A thrill shot through Harley. No one had ever worried about her before, and he had no idea where she was going or what her job entailed. “I’m never gone long. I’ll be back tomorrow; it will all be over by then.”
“Tomorrow – what time?” Beau got amused at himself.
“Just stop by the Hummer, I keep a change of clothes in there and I need to get on the road.” As he pulled next to her vehicle, she gave him one last long look before she got out. “I can’t say for sure what time I’ll be back, but I will call you.” Reaching for the door handle, she was brought up short by a strong, but gentle hand around her neck.
“Promise?” He held her gaze for a long, intense moment.
“I promise.” Without asking permission, he leaned over and kissed her once more – a chaste kiss full of longing.
"Give me your phone." She handed it over and he put his number in, and gave it back. "I'll be waiting." With that, she got out, leaving him sitting there, watching her go. Harley knew everything had changed, because this time when she left - part of her heart stayed behind.