Interview of Fran Lee, RBRU Member Author!

It's my honor to interview Fran Lee, fellow RBRU member and an author friend I've known for awhile...and have watched her career grow!

Latest Book: “Nothing But Sex”

Buy Link: http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-8365-50-nothing-but-sex.aspx

Video Link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OIxB7_5DC6Q

BIO: Fran has written over 100 romance novels in the past 25 years—and last year she decided to stop hoarding them, and start submitting them to publishers. In the past year, ten of her novels and novellas have been published, and more are coming. Fran loves writing hot romance. And she loves hearing from readers. Contact her at: fran.lee.romance@gmail.com

Q: What’s the first thing you did when you received word you’d sold a book?

A: almost fell off my computer desk chair. I DID A BIT OF DISCONNECTED SQEEEEE-ING. I called everyone I could think of. Then I cried. Overstimulation.

Q: What part of the book is the easiest for you to write? Why?

A: All of it. It simply flows. Sex rolls off my pen easily and I simply roll with the flow. Dialogue is loads of fun, especially if I am thinking from inside the characters.

Q: If one of your books became a movie, which celebrity would you like to star as one of your heroines?

A: Sandra Bullock. She is amazingly sexy and funny, but she is also a woman who isn’t afraid to be a herself. In fact, she is the epitome of tomboy attitude in silk stockings.

Q: If one of your books became a movie, which celebrity would you like to star as one of your heroes?

A: Nope. Not going there. Most of my heroes are a combination of men, and I never picture the face of a celebrity when I write. David Chance in Out of her Dreams had the body of the Rock, but not the face. I find it distracting to picture a celebrity as my hero. Of course, if and when one of my books is made into a movie, I will change my mind. LOL!

Q: Do you eat comfort food when writing? If so, what food inspires your imagination?
A: I nibble on salty, luscious cashews. Pure decadence!

Q: You’re on a remote island with a handsome man, a computer, and a “mysterious” source of electricity to power your computer. What do you do?

A: I guess I would have a nice long conversation with the handsome man. I would tell him jokes until he rolled on the sand laughing. I would write sexy stories and let him read them. If he found the stories sexy, but not me, I could handle it. However, knowing that most females can get to look a lot like a hot sex goddess when a guy hasn’t had a woman for months on end, I might get lucky. LOL! We could try blindfolding him.

Tell us where to find you: website(s), publisher’s page(s), blog(s), Facebook page(s), etc. List them all!

http://www.franleeromance.com
http://franleesromanceblog.blogspot.com
http://franleesbookreviews.blogspot.com
http://franleesensuousromance.blogspot.com
http://www.jasminejade.com/m-554-fran-lee.aspx
http://www.resplendencepublishing.com/145.html
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Fran-Lee/132560860752
http://www.facebook.com/fran.lee.romance
http://twitter.com/franleeromance
http://www.myspace.com/franleeromance
http://www.youtube.com/user/dragonlady10

BLURB:

Lee Blackhorse is hardly Cougar material, no matter what her friends over at Tempt the Cougar say. A forty-two-year-old woman who lusts after her thirty-year-old weekend helper is just plain nuts. Or is it? She’s been secretly hot for the man for years.

Mike Running Elk is the hottest thing ever to don tight jeans and a second-skin t-shirt…and he has no problem seeing himself in the role of lover. In fact, if he can just get the hot-as-hell woman to realize he’s plenty old enough to ring her bells, he plans to do more than just clean her barn and mow her grass. He’s waited for her long enough.

When her Saturday helper appears at her door with an injured hand, Lee can’t pull her eyes off his naked, ripped chest. And from her heated gaze, Mike can’t believe she’s as oblivious as she acts. The ice has been broken and he intends to heat things up even more…

EXCERPT:

Mike swore foully as he caught his glove on one of the murderously long barbs on the roll of wire fencing that he was trying to move and he tugged his leather work glove off to find that the barb had made it through to his palm. He shook his head and shoved his hair back from his face with his other hand before he tugged his unused handkerchief from his back pocket and wrapped it around his hand, which did very little to staunch the flow of blood. Swearing at his own clumsiness, he headed across the wide work yard to the back porch and stepped inside, knocking on the inside screen door.

She appeared from the archway to the living room, her face pink and her lower lip caught between her teeth as she caught sight of him and he realized that he hadn’t bothered to pull his damn shirt back on. He saw the way her eyes darkened as they slid over his body and he felt a shot of anticipation run from his gut to his cock. Her lips were full. Her eyes were smoky blue. A small vein throbbed in her throat. And it struck him forcibly that she most certainly was as aware of him as he was of her.

But before he could wrap his mind around her reaction to him, she was hurrying up the stairs to the bathroom and he was following, his appreciative eyes on the lush swell of her generous, gorgeous ass as he held the tea towel tightly to his bleeding hand. Sweet Jesus, but he loved her ass. He had loved it ever since he’d first seen her, when he was just eighteen, and he had asked her if he could do some odd jobs around the place to make some cash every week. Right after his dad had died. Watching her walk around in tight jeans had made him forget a lot of the pain in his life back then.

She filled a pair of jeans like they’d been poured onto her. His mouth watered and his cock grew impossibly harder. Even the stinging pain in his hand couldn’t distract his attention from that ass.

As she entered the bathroom and stretched up to the shelf above the toilet to lift down the first-aid kit, he almost whimpered. Was she trying to kill him? If she didn’t stop wiggling around, he was gonna blow.

“I can handle it from here,” he grated as she opened the box and started to take the soaked tea towel out of his grip. But she shoved his free hand away and gently placed his hand in the sink, rinsing it with icy-cold tap water that nearly made him yell at the pain. He stared down at her bent head as she probed and cleaned the wound and each time her body brushed his, he almost lost it.

He lost track of what was happening with his hand as every drop of blood in his body raged into his groin, threatening to explode. Maybe that was a good thing, because his hand might stop bleeding.

“I still think we need to get you to the clinic and get this stitched. It’s way too jagged to heal right, and it’s still bleeding.”

Her words were lost in the hot muddle of his emotions and body. But when she looked up into his face, he forced himself to pay attention. “Hold this clean towel in your palm. Press it tight. I’ll get my car keys.”

Anything else you’d like to add?

Yes! I am running a contest to win my latest Ellora’s Cave release, "Nothing but Sex", over at my website. Just look for the contest link on the main page.

The Glam Life? HA!

A few authors touched on the subject of writing as a career lately. Most importantly, is it worth it? I have to admit I ask myself this question monthly when the royalty checks come rolling in. Some aren’t bad, but I certainly can’t quit my day job. My husband and children would starve.
Anny Cook stated she made somewhere in the ball park of 6k last year, writing FULL-TIME! Yikes. This woman is talented. Her stories are phenomenal. If this was part-time I’d say not too bad. Me, with eight books out by December 2009 I made around $1,100. Here’s the catch - $400 of that was for 2 Chicken Soup for the Soul stories. So really I only made $700.
I can tell you one thing. I get Google alerts on Release Day. Those alerts? Pirate sites requesting my book. The next day – YUP you guessed it. My book was uploaded and stolen many times over. I have no doubt Anny is feeling the pain of piracy too.
Most readers think of authors of living the glam life. I’m here to tell you that’s not so for most of us.
My glam life? Working 50hrs a week at the very stressful day job to feed my three children and keep a roof over our heads. Health issues that can be frightening at times. I won’t even get into losing my son at six days old. Well, wait there’s the stress of wanting a baby and not being able to carry another one to term. Can’t afford surrogacy or adoption. Every day my heart breaks for my husband who wants a child of his own.
I write to escape this glam life I’m living. I’m not looking for sympathy. I’m thick-skinned and will survive. Otherwise I wouldn’t be in this business. I’m just trying to show people that US authors are REAL people with REAL issues. So next time you want to steal a book from us, realize this is what you’re taking away from us by not paying for the book.

Interview of Author Dawn Chartier

Today it's my honor to interview new author Dawn Chartier, an author who's joined Romance Books R Us Yahoo Group.

Latest Book: "Not An Angel", The Wild Rose Press.


 Buy Link: http://www.thewildrosepress.com/not-an-angel-p-4016.html?zenid=9d65096afe1946a15edaaf4797966b3a



Video Link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qGGHDXkSMZY

BIO:
Dawn Chartier was born in New Orleans, Louisiana, one of four children. She considers herself a Cajun-Coon-Ass, but has the accent of a New Yorker, or so she’s been told. The “unknown” and the “power of love” fascinate her. She grew up in her parent’s bookstore, but at the time she didn’t like to read. (Really!) It took a divorce (and a book-a-holic sister) for her to find the passion for reading, and a hurricane named Katrina to uncover her desire to write. After writing four manuscripts, Not An Angel, her paranormal romance found a home with The Wild Rose Press (www.thewildrosepress.com), and will be released in 2010. Currently, she is writing a romantic suspense series set in her home town of New Orleans. Dawn works part-time in the construction industry, and is a member of Romance Writers of America. She is one of the Co-Program directors for SOLA-RWA. With her husband, two daughters and two Golden Retrievers, she currently resides on the west bank side of the Mississippi river. Unfortunately, Dawn can’t cook to save her life. For more information you can visit her website at:  http://www.dawnchartier.com

Q: What’s the first thing you did when you received word you’d sold a book?
A: When I received word that they wanted my book I wondered if they had the right person. I had to read the offer several times to make sure. Once the doubt was over, I shared the exciting news with my family.

Q: What part of the book is the easiest for you to write?
A: I think plotting is the easiest. Ideas come to me, but fleshing everything out in between is truly the hardest part. I have to make sure I have enough descriptions for the reader to see what I’m seeing, and to make the reader connect with the characters. Sure, the story is easy, but making characters come to life is not. You have to dig really deep to get to know them, and that takes a lot of time and energy. And now that I finished a few books, I find revisions are getting a “little” easier, but I guess that comes with practice. Just like any job, the more you do it, the easier it is and hopefully the better it is too. I hope I answered the question. (grin)

Q: What part of the book is the hardest for you?
A: (see answer above) And another hard part of the book is writing “The End.” I’m always worried that I didn’t tie-up everything. And knowing I’ve come to the end of the story, and then I have to put it out there after it’s done is a little scary too.

Q: Do all your heroes and all heroines look the same in your mind as you “head write”?
A: Not at all. My characters all look and act different. Trace in Not An Angel, I found a picture of him on www.istockphoto.com. I kept his picture on my credenza the entire time I wrote. Then I submitted his picture as an “example” of my character to the book cover artist, and she actually bought the picture from the company. I was so thrilled, because he is such a hottie. I love my book cover. I got really lucky. The heroine I’m working with now, I’m using actress, Julianne Moore. I printed a few pictures of Julianne. In one photo she’s dressed up, and in the other she’s in jeans. In my novel, she’s a sexy red-head contractor, and Julianne fits the character in my mind. She feisty, yet lovable.

Q: What is your favorite romance book that you’ve read?
A: I have several favorite romance books, but I’ll have to go with "A Knight in Shining Armor" by Jude Deveraux. I don’t normally read a book more than once, but I have read this one several times. Something about the heroine, and the heartache she suffers. It grabs you and keeps you pulling for her, hoping she gets the hero at the end.

Q: You’re on a remote island with a handsome man, a computer, and a “mysterious” source of electricity to power your computer. What do you do?
A: Ha. At least you didn’t say with a “mysterious” man. (grin) Of course I would say the handsome man is my husband, and we would certainly find plenty of things to do. (No details) But then the computer would call my name over and over, and beg me to go write for at least four hours. Then days later I might send an email for someone to come rescue us. Maybe. Oh!! One thing this island must have is plenty of chocolate. Can’t live without it.

Tell us where to find you: website(s), publisher’s page(s), blog(s), Facebook page(s), etc. List them all!
Website: http://www.dawnchartier.com
Publisher: http://www.thewildrosepress.com
Blog: http://www.dawntheauthor.blogspot.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/dawn.chartier
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/dawnchartier

BLURB:
Kira McCoy wants to die. Losing her husband and daughter tragically left her without hope. Now her disturbed brother-in-law will stop at nothing to have her for himself. All she wants is to find peace, but instead finds herself on top of a bridge ready to end her suffering.

Protector of the Poryria, Trace Stuart is called to defend his race or embrace death. Defending humans is not part of the plan, but he cannot stop himself from saving Kira.

Realizing that he shares a special bond with Kira, Trace defies his Queen and rushes into the heart of darkness in order to rescue the woman he loves. Will Kira be able to reach past her own pain to pull them both into the light?

EXCERPT:

As he measured her, his gaze warmed the consuming chill that had invaded her body. She glanced down, holding the material out. Nothing she could ever afford. Standing next to him in his stunning black suit, gave her more confidence than if she wore plain clothing.

“I wouldn’t have picked it out for myself, but you have good taste.”

“I know.” Trace’s gaze traveled down her torso, to her exposed toes and slowly up to her face. “And you take my breath away.” He kissed the inside of her wrist.

Heat shot up her inner arm overpowering any nervousness she may have felt earlier.
She leaned into him and whispered, “You breathe?”

Trace half smiled. “Sometimes.”

She blinked. “Oh.” That meant sometimes he didn’t breathe either.

Trace stiffened, then glanced toward the entrance flanked with four massive columns. It took a moment before she heard footsteps in the foyer. Five men entered the parlor. All dressed similar to Trace, except their cold penetrating eyes made her worry. Scared was more like it. One man strode toward her, eyes narrowed, mouth pulled down in a frown. She swallowed, then took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. They will not get to me. I will be strong.

“He won’t hurt you. Will you, Dev?” Trace stepped forward and crossed his arms.

Dev smirked and stared through his long dark lashes. “Depends.”

An eerie rumble vibrated the room. Kira advanced toward Trace. The sound of a wild cat drifted in the air. She tilted her head, glanced at Trace and realized the noise came from him.

“Boys. Boys. Boys. Dev won’t touch her, but I might.” A slender brunette appeared out of thin air and stood directly in front of the other men. Oh hell.

Dawn, anything else you’d like to add?
Thank you Marianne/April for this fun interview. My first book was released on May 12, 2010 with The Wild Rose Press, and I hope the readers enjoy "Not An Angel" as much as I enjoyed writing it. Readers can email me and tell me what they think. My email address and updates are on my website. Thanks for reading my interview.

Irritating Errors

I totally need some reader advice. I need to know just how important accuracy is to you in a story you’re reading.

Some glaring mistakes really annoy me in books. I was reading a story once where the author was describing the hero’s Glock and referred to it as a revolver. But Glock does not make revolvers. Glock is a company that makes striker-fired pistols (and knives, some clothes, and a couple other gun tools…but not Revolvers!).

Author Lady must’ve assumed the words pistol and revolver were synonymous and could be interchanged. But nope. Revolvers are only a type of pistol with a cylinder full of chambers to put each bullet in. The bullets in a Glock pistol are stored in the clip that gets shoved up into the butt of the grips. Anyway, the point here is this little detail of calling a Glock a revolver bugged me…for like ever. I'm not quite sure why.

And now that I’m writing my own stories, I’ve approached a problem in a manuscript I just sold, an error I actually know about (I’m sure I’ve made tons of mistakes I don’t know about, but this one I do). It’s still in the editing phase, so it’s possible I can fix it, but the question I’m asking is…is this problem such a big deal that I NEED to fix it, cause I’ll have to cut an entire scene to do that and I’d really rather keep that cute scene if I could.

Guess I should explain what I’m talking about, huh? There’s this scene in my story where the heroine gets flagged down by a cop on the Las Vegas Strip because she’s scantily dressed and this area has problems with illegal prostitution.

Now the state of Nevada has legalized prostitution, but the city of Las Vegas has not. I thought I was being all smart by making this cop harass her because I thought she was in the city limits. But recently I’ve learned The Las Vegas Strip is technically NOT in the Las Vegas city limits, and there is most definitely prostitutes legally working the Strip.

So, how big of a deal do you find this error? I’d like to keep the cop scene plus the line, “We can surely find a wedding chapel somewhere close. We’re on the freaking Strip for crying out loud,” but I could change it if it was bothersome.

Honestly, would this kind of inaccuracy irritate you? What kind of author mistakes DO irritate you?

11 May is "Eat What You Want Day"!

NOTE: CONTEST BELOW for "Eat What You Want Day"!

Food, glorious food. All kinds, shapes colors, tastes...to delight our palates. And, today you have an open invitation to eat whatever you crave...and not feel guilty about it! Calories don't count! You won't gain weight! No one will look at you and wonder why you're stuffing your face...again.

Okay. Maybe some of that's not exactly true. But, who cares? If someone went through the trouble of naming this "free-to-eat-what-you-want" day, why shouldn't you take advantage of it?

Do you crave something sweet? Chocolate? Anything with sugar?

Something gooey? Sticky? Salty?

This will sound weird...but I crave SALADS! Because of 4 stomach surgeries I've had, I can't eat raw fruits or vegetables. Now, this might sound like an open invitation to cram my face...and stomach...with carbs, proteins, and sweets, but I'm TIRED of those! I want to eat a fresh apple, tomato, peach, and sink my teeth into a wonderful salad with all the trimmings!

Alas, I can't eat those items mentioned above, so I'll have to come up with something else to indulge in for "Eat What You Want Day".

My choice is PIZZA...loaded with extra cheese that leaves stings hanging as I pull it apart to stuff into my mouth.

I love writing food scenes for my heroes and heroines. In "Gone to the Dogs" by Marianne Stephens, my heroine, Katie, eats many times, and although she worries about those extra few pounds, she satisfies her hunger and cravings.

CONTEST: LEAVE A COMMENT AND TELL ME WHAT YOU'D LIKE TO EAT ON "EAT WHAT YOU WANT DAY". BE SURE TO PUT YOUR EMAIL ADDRESS IN THE COMMENT BOX SO I CAN NOTIFY YOU IF YOU WIN. PRIZE: PRINT COPY OF "GONE TO THE DOGS" BY MARIANNE STEPHENS, AND SOME OTHER GOODIES I'LL THROW IN. DEADLINE: MIDNIGHT ET 14 MAY.

Photos: Flickr: Bitman, rexipe, Josh.liba, skidder's photostreams.

http://www.mariannestephens.net
http://www.aprilash.net
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/romancebooksrus
http://sevensexyscribes.blogspot.com

Interview of Author Diane Farr

Today I'm happy to be interviewing author Diane Farr.

Latest Release Title: "Wicked Cool"

Buy Link: http://www.jasminejade.com/p-8304-wicked-cool.aspxVideo link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xLwHvOAD_vQ

BIO:
Diane Farr was first published at the age of eight when the Bakersfield Californian printed one of her poems. She has lived most of her life with her nose in a book – sometimes reading, sometimes writing. She is a four-time RITA finalist and the winner of a Golden Quill, a Blether Gold award, and a Lifetime Achievement award from RT Book Reviews. Her May 2010 release, Wicked Cool, took First Place in the YA Division of the 2009 Focus on Writers contest.

Q: What’s the first thing you did when you received word you were a RITA finalist?
A: Okay, now this is actually a very funny story. The first time I got “the call,” the president of Romance Writers of America, Tara Taylor Quinn, happened to be a member of my local chapter.

So when she called me one March night, I assumed it had something to do with chapter business. It never crossed my mind that she was calling in her capacity as President of RWA! Tara said, “Congratulations, Diane, you’re a finalist in the RITA awards.” What I heard was, “Congratulations, you’re a finalist in the reader awards.” I had no idea what the “reader awards” were, but I was, naturally, delighted. “Oh, how wonderful,” I said. “How did that happen?” She must have thought I was nuts, but she carefully explained the awards to me – again, I’m hearing “reader awards” – while I made pleased sounds in the background. I finally asked, “So when are they given out?” Tara said, “At the national convention, on Saturday night.” Dismay struck me. “Oh, no!” I said. “That will conflict with the…”

And then it hit me. Yes, you idiot, it will conflict with the RITA awards. Because it IS the RITA awards, and you’re a finalist.

I cannot imagine what was going on at Tara’s end of the phone call. She heard me say, “Oh no, that will conflict with the …” followed by an indescribable, barely-human sound – somewhere between a choke and a scream.

I do not remember the rest of the phone call. I remember running in circles, whooping until I hyperventilated, but I’m not sure if Tara was still on the line.

She has kept a polite, but wary, distance from me ever since.

Q: What part of the book is the hardest for you…beginning, middle, end. Why?
A: They are all hard, for different reasons. The beginning is hard because you have to come up with an idea. Not just any idea – a GOOD idea. Lots of ideas are tempting to think about, but you have to figure out – in advance of writing the book – which ideas will sustain a book-length manuscript and which will peter out halfway through. My books always start with characters. I often come up with fabulous people who are just perfect for each other – that’s not the hard part. The hard part is coming up with some good reason why these two fabulous people can’t just meet, fall in love and get married. Because if they do, there’s no book! So there must be an obstacle, and it had better be a doozy. Then you get to the middle and encounter a long, hard slog. Usually the original obstacle, whatever it is, threatens to grow tiresome and repetitive. So you have to throw something else into the mix and, again, if it’s not the right something, your book falls apart.
Finally you glimpse the end in sight – and feel an overwhelming urge to gallop towards it, neck or nothing. So the hard part with an ending is reining yourself in, making sure you don’t trample important plot points on your way to the finish line.

Q: Do you eat comfort food when writing? If so, what food inspires your imagination?
A: No, but I listen to “comfort music.” Classical, New Age or movie scores, mostly, because I can’t write to anything other than instrumental music. If someone starts singing lyrics, the words pouring into my ears distract me from the words pouring out of my fingertips.

Q: You’re on a remote island with a handsome man, a computer, and a “mysterious” source of electricity to power your computer. What do you do?
A: I miss my cat.

Q: Facebook, MySpace, Blogs, Chats, or Twitter. Which do you like best and why?
A: I’m a total Facebook addict. I play word games with friends and family all over the world – that’s what hooked me. My husband tells me that since I discovered Facebook, I would be happy if I were just a brain in a jar. He’s probably right. Especially if somebody would take the jar to the beach once in a while.

Q: What hobby do you enjoy when not writing?
A: I hate to fly, but I put up with it because I love to travel. I also enjoy theater, which was my first love. Oh, and reading. Did I mention reading?

Tell us where to find you: website(s), publisher’s page(s), blog(s), Facebook page(s), etc. List them all!
http://www.dianefarrbooks.com
http://www.wickedcoolbooks.wordpress.com
http://www.bestbyfarr.com
http://www.facebook.com/dianefarrpage
http://www.amazon.com/Diane-Farr/e/B000APO0CY/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1272818554&sr=1-2-ent

BLURB:
Zara Norland has a problem. It’s getting harder to hide who—or what—she is. Which is pretty ironic, actually. Because Zara doesn’t know who, or what, she is. Her sixteenth birthday is just around the corner, and according to all the fairy tales and legends, something is about to happen. If you have unexplainable powers or a mysterious past—and Zara has both—something huge happens on your sixteenth birthday, right?

Zara has never found fairy tales particularly helpful. But she has a feeling that this time, the old legends are right on the money. Here comes trouble.

EXCERPT:
I saved somebody’s life today. And the awful thing is I shouldn’t have done it.

I am so mad at myself.

I’m also mad at the world and fate and The Great Whatever, for sticking me with this mess. It’s totally not my fault! I mean, okay, yes, I did it. But what else could I do? This whole situation is so unfair it bites.

Most of all, I’m mad at Donald O’Shaughnessy and his cheese-brained friends, for horsing around at the top of the tallest water slide in the park. I mean, honestly—get a clue!

The bottom line is, if Donald had had one single ounce of maturity, none of this would have happened. But who gets to suffer for it? Who is hiding all alone in her room, shivering with reaction? Who is scribbling panicked thoughts into a journal because she has no one to talk to? Me.

I bet Donald is surrounded by his near and dear. I bet the O’Shaughnessy clan is making a big fuss. I bet they sat around all evening, exclaiming and hugging and eating chocolate cake, overjoyed to have him safe and sound and all that.

Let’s face it. It sucks to be me.

Why did I do it?

I already know the answer, of course. I did it because I could. Somebody had to step up, and it happened so fast…

One second, Meg and I were standing at the bottom of the water slide, looking up. Meg—who, despite her general teensyness, has a much bigger voice than I have—was screaming at the boys to knock it off. Because the boys were way overhead, at the top of the platform, acting like over-caffeinated baboons.

And the next second, the safety rail at the top of the platform gave way.

It had never occurred to us that something bad might happen. From what I know about boys—which is, admittedly, not much—they ape the mentally challenged on a regular basis. Meg and I weren’t yelling at the boys because we were afraid someone would get hurt. We were just afraid we’d get kicked out of the park. We were yelling, but we were laughing too, you know? Until this happened.

The platform was about a hundred feet overhead. It might as well have been a mile. I saw a human form grab, miss, and fall. I saw red hair and bright blue swim trunks silhouetted against the sky. There was nothing around him but air.

And that was that. I risked everything, absolutely everything, for Donald O’Frickin Shaughnessy. I don’t even like Donald O’Shaughnessy.

There wasn’t time to think. I don’t remember making a decision—although I must have, of course, because summoning Power is never an accident. But I acted so quickly, Donald didn’t even have time to scream.

He plummeted—briefly. Very briefly. The instant I saw him spread-eagled and flailing against the sky, a flash of heat left my body.

The power arrowed into Donald’s torso like invisible lightning. His back arched like he’d been punched in the gut. He shot upward slightly from the force of the impact, then hung in midair for about a nanosecond. And then he drifted gently to the ground and landed. Unhurt.

On his feet, no less. I must admit, that was pretty cool.

The whole incident took about five seconds…probably the longest five seconds of my life.

Did I mention that the water park was crowded? Well, it was. School has only been out for four days, and everybody’s celebrating. So there were a lot of people there.

A lot of witnesses.

Excuse me while I jump up and pace for a few minutes.

Interview of Tina Donahue, RBRU Member Author!

Today it's my pleasure to interview multi-published RBRU Member Author, Tina Donahue! I'm so glad she joined our Yahoo group!

Latest Book: Lush Velvet Nights
Buy Link: http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-8298-50-lush-velvet-nights.aspx

YouTube link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9m560M7pWyw&feature=PlayList&p=B0E8457DEA3BD67E&playnext_from=PL&playnext=1&index=59


BIO: Tina Donahue is a multi–published novelist in contemporary, historical and erotic romance. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly,Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work; she has reached finals and /or placed in numerous RWA–sponsored contests, including recently winning Second Place in the NEC RWA contest for her erotic novel. She was the editor of an award–winning Midwestern newspaper, worked in Story Direction for a Hollywood production company, and is currently the Managing Editor for a global business document concern. Lush Velvet Nights is Tina’s fifteenth title.

Email: tina@tinadonahue.com
Website: http://www.tinadonahue.com

Q: What’s the first thing you did when you received word you’d sold a book?
A: I got the call from my agent. For a moment I froze, not understanding what he was saying. He’d only sent the book to the publisher on Friday and here it was the following Monday and he told me it sold. Like in three days. Not only that, but the publisher wanted to know if I was working on anything else.
I asked him to repeat what he’d just said. He laughed and did. I said, “Are you sure?” Honestly, I just couldn’t believe it. My first sale resulted in three contracts.

Q: What part of the book is the easiest for you to write? Why?
A: The ending. By that time I’m so emotionally invested in my characters the writing comes fast and easy. At that point, I know my story people better than I know my family and best friends.

Q: What part of the book is the hardest for you? Why?
A: The opening lines of the novel. To capture reader interest the first line or lines have to be unique so that the reader doesn’t toss the book aside, and those first words have to convey the tone of the story.
One of the best opening lines I’ve ever read was in Orwell’s 1984: “It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.” I hadn’t really been paying attention until I read the ‘striking thirteen’ part. Instantly, I thought – what the hell? That opening line conveys so well the doublethink that goes on in 1984. The 1+1 = 3 concept of rewriting history. Wow.

Q: What is your favorite romance book that you’ve read?
A: Although there are numerous romances by contemporary writers that are great, I have to say my most favorite romance ever is a classic – Jane Eyre. Even after all this time, the storyline is so damned feminist. Each time I pick it up, I’m amazed it wasn’t written within the last century. I found the turmoil between Jane and Mr. Rochester so rich, so tragic but ultimately satisfying. Even though the HEA is a bit poignant, it also makes perfect sense.

Q: You’re on a remote island with a handsome man, a computer, and a “mysterious” source of electricity to power your computer. What do you do?
A: That’s easy. Do some heavy duty research on my next love scenes with the guy, then fire up the computer and write my pages for the day. Nothing – and I do mean nothing – gets in the way of my writing. Of course, Mr. Hot Stuff doesn’t mind me working. He’s taking a well-deserved snooze after giving me a lot of hot and very romantic sex.

Q: What genre would you like to try writing in but haven’t yet done so? Why?
A: Urban fantasy. I’m always intrigued by the plotlines that are coming out. They’re so fantastic and they sound like a lot of fun to write.
On another note: After thinking about doing a paranormal for years, I finally wrote the damn thing. And I’m happy to say I’ve just sold it to Samhain. It’s set to release in early 2011. So, I might just try UF next.

Tell us where to find you:
Website and blog: http://www.tinadonahue.com
Publisher’s page (for my most current titles):
http://www.jasminejade.com/p-7772-adored.aspx
http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-8080-50-deep-dark-delicious.aspx
http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-8298-50-lush-velvet-nights.aspx

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#%21/profile.php?id=100000458023097

Anything else you’d like to add?
I host monthly contests and scavenger hunts at my website/blog with my titles as prizes (winner’s choice of title).
I’ve just finished up the first draft of my latest contemporary erotic romance and will have it in my editor’s hands within the next couple of weeks. So, stay tuned.

BLURB:Lush Velvet Nights

When wanton desires & love demand all…

During the day, Adriana’s a lonely corporate heiress, helming a supermarket empire. At night, she hires escorts, scripting provocative fantasies of kidnapping, lust, submission and endless longing. It’s all she has to excite her until she meets Nathan Wynn.

Tall, blond and muscular—like a modern-day Viking—Nathan’s a labor relations attorney representing Adriana’s union employees. His imposing presence intensifies her basest desires. When he protects her from an escort he believes is an attacker, she knows he’s wonderfully dominant and unrestrained. Fascinated by Adriana’s underlying sensuality, Nathan brings her to his secluded mountain estate, determined she submit fully to his hunger. At a gentleman’s club, he makes certain she denies him nothing.

Engaging in a seductive sexual journey, Nathan’s caught off-guard by his stunning need for Adriana. An attraction he fears because of past events in his life. A growing emotional connection she will not let him deny.

EXCERPT:
(In this scene, Nathan has stopped at a rustic gas station/restaurant just prior to reaching his mountain estate for a three-day weekend of hedonistic delights with Adriana.)

Nathan came to her side, hitting the glass with his elbow.

She lowered the window and took the cup he offered, hoping it didn’t mean they’d be stuck here for awhile. “Coffee?”

His eyes lifted from her bared legs to her partially unbuttoned blouse. “Hot chocolate. You like?”

“Is there whipped cream?”

“A double dollop. I insisted.”

Her delighted moan said it all. By the time he’d gotten back inside, she’d taken off the plastic lid and enjoyed her first taste. Decadently rich, it was the kind of drink served decades ago when quality and pleasure, not calories or fat content, mattered. “Oh my god, this is so good. Can I have yours too?”

He finished his sip and chuckled. “If you want, I’ll get a gallon of it before we take off.”

She swished her next taste around her mouth to cool the temperature and to savor the flavor prior to swallowing. “When will that be?”

“No more than five minutes. The officer said the plows are out and should have gotten past my place by then, so there’s no need for chains. You have foam on your upper lip.”

She reached up to finger it away. Nathan intercepted her hand. “I’ll do it.” He put his cup into the holder and brought his face to hers.

The world seemed to pitch, leaving her dizzy. On a sigh, she closed her lids.

He glided his tongue over her upper lip and licked off the whipped cream.

Electrified by his closeness and the act’s intimacy, Adriana could barely breathe. Her throat constricted, muffling her whimper. She smelled chocolate on his breath and tasted sweetness on his tongue as he slipped it inside her mouth, filling her completely, demanding she accommodate him.

Obedient, she suckled hard, pulling him more deeply within. Not yet satisfied, he angled his mouth for even greater penetration. Adriana mewled. Her free hand held the back of his head. She drove her fingers into his tangled, snow-dampened locks. Their appetite for each other became noisy and unrestrained, no different than kids indulging in their first sexual encounter. Nathan kissed her as if he meant it, his excitement real, not paid for, stoking her desire.

She couldn’t get close enough. The vehicle was too restrictive. He must have thought so too. To her dismay, he pulled in his tongue and broke free of her mouth. A protest rose to Adriana’s lips and died as he took her cup, settling it next to his in the holder. Hands on either side of her face, fingers warmed from their drinks, he looked into her eyes.

Her heart beat triple-time. Her thoughts raced. Did he see momentary lust or enduring desire in her gaze, a chance encounter or something deeper? Unwilling to hide her feelings or stop what was happening, she whispered, “Kiss me again and don’t stop.” Please.

Heedless of her request, he took obvious pleasure in exploring her brows, cheeks, mouth, chin.

She closed her eyes, not out of concern he’d find her looks wanting, nor from shyness. Her lids were simply too heavy to keep up. The wait for him too endless.

As though he’d been intentionally testing her limits, he reclaimed her mouth, his tongue driving so deep she had no chance of breaking away.

An indelicate groan pumped from her chest, followed by his uncivilized grunt. His hand slipped from her face to her chest. With no concern for the outside world and anyone who might glance this way, he maneuvered his hand past her blouse, slipping his fingers inside her bra’s satin cup.

Instantaneously, her nipple went rigid, welcoming his palm. His fingers splayed over her breast, testing its pliancy, its weight, compromising her control. Her free hand gripped the leather seat, seeking some measure of restraint. Recklessly, her body slumped into his touch and male dominance. Again he proved it by interrupting their kiss. This time he pressed his lips to her neck.

Adriana’s head drooped forward, her cheek stroking his. Without breaking pace, his tongue swept her skin while his lips suckled her throat gently. Limp and defenseless, she let her thoughts scatter until he pulled down her bra cup and bared her breast.

Eyes opening, she lifted her face. Nathan eased back. He put up his armrest and hers then lowered his head. His tongue swirled around her nipple, his lips drawing it inside his mouth.

Blinking slowly at the intense heat, Adriana scanned the lot without really seeing it. Her mind told her people were arriving and departing. Eventually, someone would look over and see them through the windshield. In spite of the risk, her heart and body didn’t care. Chin lowered, she cradled his head in the crook of her arm, her hand on his tousled hair to keep him from stopping.

Nathan indulged himself, using her, warming her as the storm calmed somewhat, the snow falling lighter now, though still muting the sound of tires and voices. Minutes passed in a haze of rapture and peace, his actions a sanctuary against her loneliness and the cruelty of the outside world.

She could have stayed like this forever.

He appeared to have other plans. Finished for the moment, he lifted his face to hers, his eyes glassy with satisfaction. She didn’t have to ask why. His hand had abandoned her breast to settle between her legs. The tips of his fingers stroked the thin scrap of lace separating him from her clit.

Adriana reddened at how damp she was, how ready for him. Pride encouraged her to say something seductive, to convince him she considered their time together nothing more than another carnal adventure, just as he wanted. The raptness of his gaze stopped her. She spoke on a sigh. “How far to your place?”

“Less than ten miles.”

Her gaze lowered to his fingers. They’d left her thong to follow the lacy edge of her left stocking. With great care, he explored the fabric. She smiled. He adjusted his body as well as he could, bending over to give her an open-mouthed kiss on the inside of her thigh.

Delightful sensations rolled through her. His wet warmth reached the back of her throat, tingling it. Her mouth sagged open.

His lips moved over her flesh with his murmur, “Ready to go?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good. We’ll take off as soon as I get you more hot chocolate. It’s not too crowded in there. Shouldn’t take more than another five minutes or—”

“Forget it.” Her voice cracked with emotion. She made no effort to conceal what she felt. “I don’t need it.”

“If you say so.”

“You know I do.”

Smug with what he’d accomplished, Nathan straightened. He gave her one last, lingering kiss, the tender kind that soothed the soul, and pulled on his seatbelt. Old snow, packed with ice, crunched beneath the tires as he pulled away.

Adriana glanced out the window then looked down at their drinks, suddenly noticing her exposed breast. Startled back into good sense, she pulled Nathan’s coat over her nudity, wearing the garment like a blanket, making certain it also hid her legs.

His head turned to her. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think?” She gave the officer a nervous smile as Nathan drove past the man’s cruiser.

“You don’t like the possibility of someone watching?”

Her head swung to him. She repeated, “What do you think?”

His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Better get used to it. Won’t be long before we get to my place.”

Adriana stared at him and then the scenery. Pines, oaks and dogwood trees, burdened with snow, surrounded the homes they passed, many darkened, resembling what she’d imagined he’d own. He didn’t slow or stop.

She glanced at the mileage indicator, counting off two miles, three, four.

At length, the Rover slowed. He flicked on the left signal and turned. Adriana glanced up, her heart catching at what she saw.

Thanks, Tina, for a wonderful interview!

Those awkward post-sex moments. . .

You know what I mean.

In the heat of passion, the hero’s and heroine’s clothes are flying everywhere along with dialogue that would make a porn star feel right at home. Unable to keep their hands (or any other body part) off each other, the characters put themselves into near comas with their sexual gymnastics.

And then the bliss clears, leaving an awkward moment and the ever popular question of what now? I liken it to the end of that old (but great) movie The Graduate when Dustin Hoffman has won Katherine Ross’s heart and they run from the church (where she was supposed to marry another guy) and hop on a bus. As the miles grow between them and the church, their smiles begin to waver, they start to avoid each other’s gazes, you can almost hear their minds screaming: What in the F have I done???

While that was the finale of The Graduate, it’s generally signifies the start of the middle of my books. Since conflict drives a story, I have to have one or both of my leads have second thoughts about their proverbial roll in the hay or have one of them worry that the good times are over. In my latest release Lush Velvet Nights I approach the moment with humor while also using it to get in a bit of history to enrich Adriana’s character.

Here’s a blurb (for background) and an excerpt to illustrate what I mean:

BLURB:

Lush Velvet Nights - When wanton desires & love demand all…

During the day, Adriana’s a lonely corporate heiress, helming a supermarket empire. At night, she hires escorts, scripting provocative fantasies of kidnapping, lust, submission and endless longing. It’s all she has to excite her until she meets Nathan Wynn. Tall, blond and muscular—like a modern-day Viking—Nathan’s a labor relations attorney representing Adriana’s union employees. His imposing presence intensifies her basest desires. When he protects her from an escort he believes is an attacker, she knows he’s wonderfully dominant and unrestrained. Fascinated by Adriana’s underlying sensuality, Nathan brings her to his secluded mountain estate, determined she submit fully to his hunger. At a gentleman’s club, he makes certain she denies him nothing. Engaging in a seductive sexual journey, Nathan’s caught off-guard by his stunning need for Adriana. An attraction he fears because of past events in his life. A growing emotional connection she will not let him deny.

EXCERPT:

Comforted by his embrace, she slept deeper than the first time and dreamt of Christmas. She was little, no more than nine, and shaking one of Joe’s gifts, trying to guess what lay inside the box. The lack of sound and movement stumped but didn’t worry her. Joe knew she didn’t like the cashmere sweaters her dad’s secretary picked out for her year after year because her father refused to bother with the holidays. And she really hated the weird-tasting candy her mother sometimes sent her from European shops. Joe knew Adriana’s weakness for Hershey’s kisses. And how she loved charm bracelets that jangled as she swung her arm, capturing everyone’s attention as she entered a room. Sparkly pink headbands and barrettes were her next favorite choice. Had she told him that? She bit her lower lip and moaned because she hadn’t. Reluctantly, she peeled away the edge of the shiny red paper.


A deep voice called out, “Do you unwrap all your presents so slowly?”


With Nathan’s remembered question, Adriana’s dream evaporated. She opened her eyes. Wan light from the cloud-shrouded sky and last night’s snow spilled through the towering windows, telling her it must be mid-morning. The soft leather molded to her naked ass and back said she was no longer on the rug.
From moment to moment, you won’t know what to expect.


Propped up on her elbow, she glanced at the sofa serving as her bed with Nathan’s parka spread over her nudity like a blanket. When had that happened? To the right, near the end table, she saw her pile of clothes and her purse. He’d brought it into the great room? Why? Oh shit, were they leaving? Had his plans changed because of a problem with his practice?


Her first thought was to close her eyes and pretend to sleep to escape the truth. Her next was to face whatever came. She sure as hell couldn’t change it. On a disappointed sigh, she pushed to a sitting position, swung her legs over the sofa, noting she still wore her stockings and heels, then flinched as Nathan came around to her right, seemingly out of nowhere. She stared at the steaming mugs in his hands.


“You okay?” he asked.


Her eyes crept down his nudity, tarrying at his flaccid cock. Even deflated, it was magnificent—long and thick, the brownish skin matching the shade of his weighty balls. The fact he wasn’t dressed was a good sign. Obviously, his plans for her were still on and they weren’t leaving. She inhaled deeply to relax and smelled something scrumptious. “Is that hot chocolate?”


“Yep.” He handed her a mug. “While you were asleep, I plowed the drive, put on chains and drove back to the restaurant.”


She finished her sip with a delighted whimper and smiled at his lie and morning grubbiness. Tufts of hair stuck up on the right side of his head and his face needed a shave. “You did not.”


With one hand on the sofa’s back cushion, he leaned down and licked chocolate froth from her upper lip. The scent of sex on his skin and the damp heat of his tongue made her ears buzz.


He murmured, “How would you know? I pulled you off the floor, slung you over my shoulder, dropped you on the sofa then threw my parka over you and you didn’t wake up once. You kept snoring.”


Adriana ignored the snoring crack and attempted to calm her sprinting heart. “There’s no whipped cream in here.” She ran her finger around the lip of her mug. “That’s how I know.”


He swallowed his sip and cleaned his upper lip with his fingers. “Remind me to have the restaurant fire the delivery guy for not bringing any.”


“No need to be a prick.”


He arched one brow. “Sure you want to commit to that line of thinking while we’re still nude?”


Adriana took another sip of hot chocolate to hide her pleasure at his playful teasing. Few men had liked her enough to bother. As far as she was concerned, verbal banter held as much intimacy as a kiss. “Did the poor man also bring food?”


“Why?” Nathan’s eyes dropped from her rigid nipples to her growling belly. “Don’t tell me you’re hungry.”
“Enough to plow your drive and chain up your tires to get back to the restaurant. I’ll even buy.”


His shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. “My caretaker stocked the kitchen while you were passed out. He came over and said hi—you were still on the floor by the way. You didn’t say shit to him. Very rude,” he added at her giddy laugh. “But I forgive you. Come on, I’ll make you something.”


Her laughter wound down. She didn’t hide her surprise. “You can cook?”


“Are you kidding?” He sounded offended. “Cocoa Puffs and milk in a cereal bowl is one of my specialties, unless you’d like me to grill you a steak.”


“I’ll make us something.” She pushed to her feet, noticing the toasty heat. He must have turned the heater up full blast to allow for their nudity. “Where’s your kitchen?”


His eyes strayed from her thatch to her breasts to her mouth and returned to the tops of her stockings. “You can cook?” He sounded as if he couldn’t care less.


Adriana relished his attention and her next sip of chocolate. Her voice gurgled with its thick sweetness. “Joe taught me.” As a reminder, she added, “He was my dad’s live-in chef. Last night, I told you about—”


Nathan interrupted, “I remember, Adriana.” He met her eyes, earnestness replacing arousal. “He raised you. He loves you.”


She stared, stunned he’d recall something so seemingly inconsequential to anyone except her, pleased he’d actually been listening. Her hands trembled with emotion. She put her mug on the end table. “Yeah. I love him too. I even applied to Le Cordon Bleu so I could become a chef like him.”


“No shit.” Nathan frowned. “So why aren’t you doing that now?”


She waved her hand, dismissing the memory. “It was a silly whim I should have never considered.”


“That’s not what your face is saying.”


Adriana rolled her eyes.


Waiting for more, Nathan sipped his hot chocolate.


She sighed. “When Dad found out my plans, he contacted Stanford and had me hauled into the dean’s office. My advisor and a school representative relayed his message. If I withdrew from school, I was on my own. There’d be no more financial help from him and no reason for me to go back to his house because I wouldn’t be welcomed there.” Her shoulders lifted. “I was only eighteen and pretty mouthy. I told them I didn’t give a damn.”


He swallowed his sip. “Good for you.”


“Yeah, I thought so too until they added that my father would also fire Joe for talking me into being a cook. They made it sound as if it was something demeaning, not something to be proud of.” She rubbed her forehead, remembering the horrible scene, the lack of emotion on their faces. Her dad contributed big-time and they didn’t want to lose his funds. Although Adriana couldn’t blame them, she’d hated the way they’d handled it. Again, she sighed. “It was get my economics degree or else so I could someday take over the family business, since there wasn’t a son to do so. The advisor and rep even said that my father didn’t want me to disappoint him as my mother had. That was the worst threat of all. I knew if I withdrew from school, he wouldn’t only fire Joe, he’d make damn certain he wouldn’t get another job at any of the really nice places. That’s the way my father operated. You gave him total control or else. I was so worried about Joe I promised to stay in school and did. After that, I did whatever my father wanted so he’d leave the poor man alone. But don’t worry, I still know how to cook most stuff. Is your kitchen this way?” She pointed to the right and moved past him.


Nathan wrapped his fingers around her upper arm before she got too far. Adriana looked over without lifting her face, not wanting him to see her sadness and shame at an event so far in the past.


“It’s all right to be angry with him,” Nathan said softly. “At times, I still get pissed at my parents for what they did.”


Tears threatened. Adriana pushed them away. “Thanks.” She lifted her eyes to his. “But I’m okay. I had Joe, remember? Now, let me make us some breakfast.”


Awkward moments between characters are some of my favorites. They allow me to dig deeper into the hero and heroine’s souls…and to build empathy for them with the reader. :)

Lush Velvet Nights is available from Ellora’s Cave

Buy link: http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-8298-50-lush-velvet-nights.aspx

Website/blog/YouTube video trailer for Lush Velvet Nights: http://www.tinadonahue.com/

Scavenger hunt: http://www.tinadonahue.com/?p=550

Monthly contest: http://www.tinadonahue.com/contest/



TODAY I'M RUNNING A SCAVENGER HUNT FOR YOUR CHANCE TO WIN ONE OF MY TITLES, INCLUDING:



1. Adored

2. Deep, Dark, Delicious

3. Close to Perfect

4. Bad Boys with Red Roses

5. Take My Breath Away



Rules: Periodically throughout the day, I'll be posting questions here (four in all) and at my website (home page, click on scavenger hunt link). The first person to email me at tina@tinadonahue.com with all four correct answers will get her choice of one of the above books.



Hope to see you here and good luck!!!

More Bling!

I just got back from RT and I'm still smiling;-)What a great experience! I finally got to meet my critique partner, Francesca Hawley and my online buddy and fellow author in the Carnal Reunions Anthology, Cindy Spencer Pape. I had fun hanging out with both of them and we even managed a trip downtown to visit The Garden, one of Columbus' fetish shops. The clerks were adorable and offered to explain anything we uh...couldn't figure out.

All of the EC author that I met were fabulous and for once I got to feel tall! Well, not as short;-)I'm really looking forward to Romanticon this year and getting to know everyone a little better.

This was my first year to participate in Club RT and I can tell you, I didn't have a clue. It's a wonderful way to connect with readers but clueless me, I didn't realize how important the "bling" would be. I had a basket of chocolate, my business cards and a smile. It might have worked if I was a rock star.

The Friday E-Expo was so much fun! I sat between the very talented Dee Brice and a wonderful author, Kathryn R. Blake, who lent me a gold sharpie when mine quit working. She had produced a booklet with her cover and first chapter that was really slick. And I didn't write down the name of the software. Trust me, I'm kicking myself.

This was also my first booksigning and I can tell you as a newbie, I was terrified. When I showed up I had ten copies of Assassin's Kiss on the table but my other book, the Carnal Reunions anthology was nowhere in sight. Barnes and Nobles hadn't sent it. Our Resplendence publisher found out and brought Cindy and me five copies apiece. Thank you Leigh!

I sat between the fabulous Eden Bradley and very popular YA author, Heather Brewer. Heather sold out her three stacks of books within the first hour but the fans kept coming to talk and have their picture taken. She carried her vampire theme through with antennae balls stamped with the logo her books. Very cool idea and went over big with her fans.

I got several good ideas about bling at this conference and one of them was that functional items like antennae balls, eyeglass cleaning cloths and key-chains are winners but people also like to read excerpts and get a feel for your books. I'm making my list for Romanticon and it will definitely include bling!

See you there;-)
Hugs,
Paris

Interview of Paris Brandon, RBRU Member Author!

It's my honor to be interviewing Paris Brandon, a fellow Ellora's Cave author and Mid-America Romance Author! I've known Paris since she first published, and am thrilled to watch as her career skyrockets!

Tell us about yourself, Paris!
Thanks so much for inviting me. A little bit about me? It was a dark and stormy night…just kidding . Let’s go with the condensed version. I can’t remember a time that I didn’t make up stories to amuse myself and years ago I joined RWA after attending a book signing for my favorite Harlequin Temptation author at the time, Lynn Michaels. She actually invited me to attend a meeting of the Heartland Romance Authors and I was hooked!

Latest Book: "Head Over Heels"
Buy Link: http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-8181-138-head-over-heels.aspx
You Tube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_jgYmmsBB6g
 
In September of 2008, I got the “call” from Ellora’s Cave that they wanted to buy my first erotic contemporary OW/YM novella, "No Holds Barred" and I’ve been happily writing and selling my work since then. I have three novellas and Book One of a paranormal shifter series out now. My most recent release is part of the multi-author Red Stilettos series and my story, "Head Over Heels" is Book One, released February 12.


Q: What’s the first thing you did when you received word you’d sold a book?
A: You mean besides jumping up and down, screaming and crying? Oh, I called my husband, who was at work at the time and told him the good news. Then I called my critique group and e-mailed everyone I knew. Uhm…I was a little excited!

Q: What part of the book is the hardest for you? Why?
A: I’m a plotter. I sit down and plot the book out, develop my characters so that I know who they are and why they do the things they do so that I can make them believable in any of the situations that I put them in. I write the first three or four chapters then make sure the rest of the book lines up but I’m constantly asking myself if my characters are behaving logically. The beginning is always the most challenging for me because I really try to figure it all out by the time the first draft is complete. That said, I went totally against what I usually do and wrote the first two chapters of "Head Over Heels" and then wrote the ending! Every book is a new experience but starting the darn thing is always the hardest for me!

Q: Who is your favorite character in your book and why?
A: It’s so hard to choose because I love them all but I think Kira, the heroine of "Assassin’s Kiss", my paranormal/shifter novel is probably my favorite so far. She overcame everything I threw at her and still remained hopeful. She knew there was an answer as to who she was and if there were others like her and she overcame all of the obstacles to find her place in the world. She even ended up saving the hero (after he’d saved her several times). Did I mention that I’m partial to kick-ass heroines? Can I say that here:-)?

Q: What hobby do you enjoy when not writing?
A: I love research. I could happily spend hours scouring dusty bookstores looking for something that sparks my imagination. You can find everything from Celtic history to The New York Public Library Science Desk Reference on my research shelves. My favorites though are the journals, written by everyday people from any period of history. That’s where history lives for me. Uhm…I think I’ve veered off the path. Can you tell this is one of my passions?

Q: What’s your strongest point as a writer?
A: I’ve been told that I create great characters. I’ve had a couple of critique partners and reviewers mention the same thing so I’m going to take their word for it.

Q: What is your favorite romance book that you’ve read?
A: I wish I could pick just one! I love Jennifer Crusie. Her last two books have been co-authored with Bob Mayer and are just a fun reads. Agnes and the Hitman, has got to be one of my all time favorites. Anne Stuart’s Ice series for when I want dark alpha heroes and anything by Lynn Smith! Her Bride series was hysterical and her older Harlequin titles gave me hope that I was finally going to be able to read about fearless heroines.

Q: You’re on a remote island with a handsome man, a computer, and a “mysterious” source of electricity to power your computer. What do you do?
A: This is a fantasy, right? Then the handsome man looks like Josh Holloway (Sawyer, from “Lost”) and I’d tell him that as long as he killed and cleaned whatever food he could find, I’d cook it but he’d have to clean up because I had a deadline to meet. Of course after the deadline…I’d need more inspiration for the next book. Hey, this is a fantasy! I mean really, would you send an SOS:

Q: Any other information you'd like to give us?
A:
Website: http://parisbrandon.com
Enjoy the adventure of sensual
Ellora’s Cave Titles: http://www.jasminejade.com/m-524-paris-brandon.aspx
Resplendence Titles: http://www.resplendencepublishing.com
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Saturdays: http://www.shapeshifterseductions.blogspot.com
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BLURB for Head Over Heels

Height-challenged Bella Jacienski literally falls head over magic red stilettos into sexy philanthropist’s Rhys Vincent’s arms and wonders if the legend attached to the shoes is true. Has she found her heart’s desire, a passionate, lust-crazed lover who wants only her­—always?

Rhys can’t keep his big hands off the curvy shopkeeper. Her smile captivates him and her lush body has him behaving like a primitive Neanderthal. Heated glances and sizzling touches turn into a hot office interlude and wild break-the-bed sex that only make him want her more. She thinks the shoes are magic but Rhys knows that Bella is all the magic he needs.

Excerpt: Rated: Adult

Rhys Vincent ground his back teeth and took Veronica Smith–Hathaway’s elbow as they crossed the street. It was snowing and not for the first time did he wish he were wearing boots instead of dress shoes with his tux. Ronnie didn’t seem to notice the puddle that soaked her designer heels or the frigid wind that tore at the edges of her flimsy black evening coat. Neither had been designed for January in Kansas City.
 
Veronica—Ronnie—was his best friend Brian’s estranged wife. She had insisted she knew a shop that had the fedora they needed to complete the scavenger-hunt list—right after he’d politely refused her offer to give him the best sex of his life. Was it too much to ask for a woman who didn’t have an agenda to want to have sex with him? He’d been down the revenge-sex path years ago and it was one he didn’t want to take with a woman he’d known for twenty years.

He’d promised Brian that he’d keep an eye on her and that meant he couldn’t very well let her walk around alone in the Crossroads art district after dark.

As CEO of the Vincent Foundation, he’d put Veronica in charge of the annual event as a favor. One he was coming to regret. He was still trying to figure out why Brian was so worried about a wife he’d clearly been neglecting for the past year when Ronnie leaned over and peered into a dimly lit shop.

“There it is,” she hissed, pointing at a weathered brown fedora, jauntily perched on a torso mannequin’s head. Before he could figure out why she was hissing, he glanced through the window, started to shout and everything went into slow motion.

He saw a pair of curvy legs that ended in sexy red spike heels leaning forward and overbalancing a rickety ladder. The bell over the door jangled as he pushed it open and sprinted three full strides. He reached her before she finished screaming.

“She” was an armful of black and white fluff he grabbed and swept out of the way as the ladder fell.
 
Maybe he couldn’t breathe because she’d smacked him square in the chest but he didn’t think so. Although it could have been because her arms were wrapped solidly around his neck, as if she didn’t intend to let go anytime soon. Fine by him.

He didn’t know if she was shocked that he’d caught her or because she knew the shudder that rippled through her like a faint orgasm had telegraphed its way into his fingertips. She looked like a naughty fairy-tale princess with big blue eyes. A fall of silky dark hair brushed the top of her black turtleneck and her creamy cheeks were flushed as bright as an apple. She knew.

Thanks to Paris Brandon for doing this interview! She's a Member Author of this blog's Yahoo group and can be found at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/romancebooksrus