Meet the Author Monday - Rachel Brimble

Why do you write the stories you write?

Ooh, tough question! I really don’t know. I only recently realized I have a running theme of ‘trust’ through my novels so I am clearly battling with my own trust issues in some shape or form!

I write romance because I enjoy the journey of a couple meeting each other or maybe reuniting, and watching how they grow and change. A relationship cannot last without honesty and compromise and when someone has been alone for a while, that can be a huge challenge.

Of course, throwing in other obstacles just adds to the fun!

What are your writing goals for this year?

I would love to write and submit at least two new full-length novels and two novellas. My agent is fantastic and is busy shopping my first romantic suspense in three years right now as well as working with me to polish a new contemporary romance. Watch this space!

As for my work-in-progress? I have just started a new romantic suspense set in the fictional town of Templeton Cove in South West England - I hope it will be book 2 in a series.

Do you have any releases scheduled for this year?

Not right now L I have spent a lot of time writing and working with my agent throughout 2011 so I have three full-length novels completed, it’s just a case of whipping them into shape and then securing that all-important publishing deal!

What do you like to read? 

Everything apart from paranormal romance – I’ve tried and tried but it’s just not for me. I read contemporary romance, romantic suspense, erotic romance, women’s fiction, historicals and the odd biography. I usually have three books on the go at once – a hardback, a paperback and something open on my Kindle.

What would you like to know from readers?

What is your favorite romantic sub-genre and why? Also, do you think there needs to be something written in romance that hasn’t been??

Thanks for having me here today, Emma! Here’s is the blurb and buy link for my latest release, “Paying The Piper”

Nightclub manager, Grace Butler is on a mission to buy the pub where her mother’s ashes are scattered – except the vendor wants to sell to anyone but her. And the vendor happens to be her father…with a secret Grace will do anything to uncover.

Social worker and all-round good guy, Jimmy Betts needs cash to buy a house for three special kids before their care home closes. In a desperate bid for cash, he agrees to a one-time ‘job’ for bad-man Karl Butler. But in a sudden turn of events, Jimmy finds himself employed by Karl’s beautiful, funny and incredibly sexy daughter, Grace.

Their lives are so different except for one unifying thread – they are both trying to escape the binds of their tyrannical fathers. But is the key to their liberty each other?

Link:

http://www.lyricalpress.com/store/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=3_25&products_id=424

Rachel can be found here:

http://www.rachelbrimble.com/

http://rachelbrimble.blogspot.com/

https://twitter.com/#!/RachelBrimbl

Prima Ranieri, heroine of Surrender to Honor by Jannine Corti-Petska

Please introduce yourself, Ms. Ranieri.

“I am Prima Ranieri from Palermo.”

Society labels you as unconventional. Why?

Prima stared at the terribly thin woman. No doubt her false blonde hair weighed more than she. “Unconventional?”

            “Different.”

“Why did you not say so?” She frowned. “I am not like other women. I wear armor when necessary, and I handle a bow and arrow better than most men. The sword is also my weapon, but in battle the bow and arrow is the first I would choose.

You certainly are unconventional. Have you ever wanted to fit in?

“Fit in where?” Surely the woman didn’t mean the time she got stuck in a narrow window just before her marriage to Antonio?

“Be accepted by others.”

“No.” Prima looked around the grassy field, a forest of trees nearby. There were close to100 men on horseback, their clothes an oddity. She glanced at poles and the metal boxes atop them, wondering how they balanced. And what were all those black, squiggly things on the ground?

The interviewer followed her line of vision. “Those are wires. They send electricity to the cameras.”

Faith, did she read her mind? Prima shrugged off the woman’s comment and drew a deep breath. “I care not if I am accepted by others. My husband, his men and the entire household accept me as I am.” They had no choice.

Who is your role model and why? 

            “Che cosa role model?”

            “I’m assuming you’re asking for a meaning?”

            Prima nodded, all the while thinking the woman had lost control of her mind.

            “Was there anyone who you wished to be—”

            “I do not wish to be anyone. I am Prima.” She dug her fingertips into the wood arm rests.

            “Was there anyone you admired?”

            Prima’s brows rose in question as her frustration mounted. “I know not what you mean.”

            “Never mind. We’ll skip that question.”

If you could do anything without concern for consequences, what would it be?

            “Thanks be to God Antonio is not here to answer that question. It is my nature not to think before I act upon my desires. At first, my husband did not understand my need to train with weapons.” Like the time her husband’s close friend Nando got in trouble because she wanted to train with her sword and none of Antonio’s men would oblige. So Nando stepped in. Antonio caught them touching swords. “There is naught anyone can do about my quick reactions.”

             

Is your husband as unconven— ah, different as you?

            “Mayhap. He does not cherish carrying a weapon. I have saved his hide many a time. His fool notion that words not weapons settles a fight does not go well for him.”

Have you dark desires you'd like to share? 

            “I do,” a male voice responded.

            Prima glared at a grinning Antonio. “What are you doing here?”

            “I missed my beautiful wife.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

            She flushed. “Were you not taking the children to the puppet show?”

            His dark eyes delved deep into her senses. He had that look of a man needing carnal pleasure. Pray he didn’t give in to his desires before they returned home.

            Reclaiming her senses, Prima told him bluntly, “She is not interested in your dark desires. And she oft speaks in a different language, so take care with what you say.” One glance at the woman, and Prima wanted to rip the ogling harlot’s eyes out. “I believe she has conjured up your dark desires.”

            Antonio slid his gaze to the stranger, his smile seducing. She hated when he did that. He could charm the leggings off a stout knight. And the woman… Prima fumed at her flirtatious behavior. She dabbed at her brow then unbuttoned her shirt and fanned herself.

            “Your questions are over,” Prima announced.

            Tearing her gaze away from Antonio, the woman pulled herself together. “Just one more thing.”

Please provide a bit of your story that showcases you at your best. 

            “Tell her about how you welcomed me back to Palermo,” Antonio suggested.

            The twinkle in his eyes disturbed Prima. She’d think he wouldn’t want to tell another of that particular incident.

            She nodded. “He was atop his horse on a hill overlooking a funeral procession…….”

Antonio squeezed his eyes closed against the roiling memories, but he couldn’t ignore the depressing tone of the mourners. The combined din of the old woman’s wails, the creaking and clanking of the cart, the murmur of grieving voices—all collided in his head with forceful commotion. As he gripped the reins, eager to escape the noise, a high-pitched war cry rent the air, and something struck his horse’s flank.

Shocked, Antonio gaped at the small warrior clinging to his saddle, struggling to climb astride. He turned his horse in a tight circle and attempted to shake off his attacker, but the man clung like a dog to a juicy bone. Antonio gripped the horse’s barrel as the soldier gained leverage and caught him off guard with the flat side of a broadsword. Antonio tumbled to the ground. The little bastard stood between his spread thighs, one booted foot on his manhood. The sword’s sharp point poked the hollow of his throat.

“Identify yourself,” the soldier commanded.

“I have no quarrel with you.”

“Be you Massaro or Falcone?”

“Mayhap I am neither.”

“Mayhap I should run my blade through your throat and see what color blood pours from your veins.”

The soldier pressed on Antonio’s groin, and he sucked in his breath. “I have recently come to Palermo and have had little time to acquire enemies. If you will explain your reason for attacking me, I may better explain my intentions upon this land you guard with your life.”

“I guard against the horrible misdeeds of the families Massaro and Falcone. Were you called upon by either?”

Antonio’s eyes darted over the youth. There was no bulk to him, neither was his voice that of a grown man. He sounded as if he purposely deepened his voice. It mattered not, though. At the moment, the lad held the advantage, and another move of his small boot spread painful pressure through Antonio’s veins.

“No,” he rasped.

“Cooperate, stranger, or you shall not live to see the sun set.”

“Thank you for your time,” the woman said, but her eyes were undressing Antonio.

Prima yanked on his shirt sleeve and pulled him away from the lecherous woman, else Prima would be forced to demonstrate her expertise with a sword. Her husband gripped her wrist and brought her into him, trapping her in his embrace. Her exasperation with his outward display of affection boiled up her chest.

“Not here,” she scolded him.

“Then we best get home soon.”

“Can you not control yourself?” She pulled out of his arms and started off. “I cannot believe I married a man whose lust knows no bounds.”

He caught up to her. “I have never heard you complain.”

It was true. How could she fault him when she was just as hot to share his bed. She picked up speed. “Then we best get home soon.”

Jaines Cord from Dark Vow by Shona Husk

Please welcome Jaines Cord. Mrs. Cord please share a little bit about yourself.

I’m an apprentice gunsmith, or was, now I’m on a quest to catch and kill the Arcane Union Bounty Hunter who murdered my husband. Not an easy thing when the Arcane are immune to bullets. But I won’t let him get away with it. I swore a vow over my husband’s pyre and I’ll keep it or die trying.

Do you consider yourself unconventional, or is that just a label society sticks on you?

Most women wouldn’t be working in a gunsmithy, or even learning a trade since women can’t get papers from the Unions. While I never thought anything of it, most folk do think I’m a little odd. But I like the work, and I like to have busy hands. I grew up in father’s smithy and working with my husband was nice. Besides it was our life and we didn’t care what others thought.

Do you embrace your uniqueness, or have you always just wanted to fit in?

There was a time when I’d have liked to fit in, to be pretty and be able to flutter my eyelashes at a boy have them kiss my hand. But I always knew it wouldn’t last. I have scars on my belly and shoulder where a bastard-horse started feeding on me when I was five. Most men prefer women who aren’t that scarred and who can make babies. Lance, my husband, never cared. After marrying him I never cared what other’s thought.

Who is your role model and why?

I don’t remember my mother, so probably my father. He raised all of us kids, myself and four older brothers, after her death and all without complaining. Plus he ran his own smithy. He just got on with what needed doing, putting his faith that the Lords would take care of everything.

If you could do anything without concern for consequences, what would it be?

Take down the Arcane Union. They are corrupt, deceitful and care about nothing but their own power. I know that’s blasphemous but of all the ten Unions ruled by the ten Lords they are the only one that will kill to protect the secrets they keep. They are the only Union that doesn’t let people chose. You’re either born with magic or you aren’t. If you have magic the Arcane Union will find you and claim you. Lords help you if you are female.

Is your ideal man as unconventional as you, or are you even looking for Mr. Right?

Mr Right? Oh, the right man to spend your days with. I thought I’d found Mr. Right with my husband, and after his death I didn’t expect to find love again. I didn’t think I’d be able to breathe again. But I learned some things about him, and me, which changed my perspective on love and what I wanted from a man. My new man, Obsidian, is unconventional, some would say dangerous given that he refuses to go back to the Arcane Union. But after what they did to him I don’t blame him and I’ll stand by his side any day of the ten-night…even if we can’t marry in the Decihall.

Any other dark desires or juicy details you'd like to share?

The secrets I keep could get people killed.

Please provide a bit of your story that showcases you at your best.

I think my first meeting with Obsidian is pretty memorable:

Usually I didn’t accept drinks from strange men, but this one had hinted at information I wanted, so I followed him to the corner table and sat down. The chair rocked, its legs skewed like it had been swung at—and connected with—too many heads. The man sat opposite me, one glass in each hand. He pushed one over to me then took a gulp from the one wedged in the grip of his black hand. His golden eyes, though glassy, never left me.

I pulled out another tinny. This was turning out to be a very expensive tavern; no doubt I was receiving the special visitor prices. “I don’t pay in trade.”

His lips twisted in a cruel smile. “Didn’t expect you to. Not even hale-bale whores take coin from me on account of this.” He gave the fake hand a jiggle without spilling a drop of liquor. “Might be contagious.”

Cold settled in my gut. It was his real hand. I eyed the black skin cautiously. Every detail was perfect—the joints, the nails, the pores. Some kind of magical disease had stolen his hand.

“Is it?”

“No.” He took a drink, and his gaze sharpened beneath his dark eyebrows. He wasn’t as drunk as he appeared. “Why are you hunting your husband’s killer?”

“He killed my husband.” Wasn’t that reason good enough?

He shook his head. “I got that, but only simpletons or the insane step in front of a Bounty Hunter. You don’t look like either.”

“Mayhap I want to thank him.” I rolled the glass of bizum between my palms, the golden liquid clinging to the sides. Almost the same shade as the man’s eyes.

“I don’t think so. I never heard of anyone thanking a Bounty Hunter.” He downed the last of his drink. “What makes you think you can kill him?”

“I can shoot a man’s eye at sixty paces.”

“Ah, so they aren’t for decoration.” His eyes glinted like sunlight on a pond. He was enjoying pulling my strings.

I wasn’t. I’d misjudged, and he knew nothing. “Did a Bounty Hunter come through here?”

With his good hand he pulled the empty glass free. “You drinking that?”

I shook my head. He put my drink into his black hand.

“Why did you bring me over here if you’ve got nothing to say?”

“Company of a pretty lady.” He said loud enough for everyone to hear. He raised his glass and tipped his head. Then he lowered his voice to something just above a sigh carried on the breeze. “Taverns have rats. Rats like gold, and they always find an open purse. The man you hunt will find you out. Then you will be the hunted. Not a game you want to play.”

“How would you know?”

He swallowed the drink he’d bought for me in one gulp then stood and shook his head, as if clearing the bees from between his ears. “Because of this.” He tapped his black hand.

“What’s your name?” I was sure he knew something. He just didn’t want to talk here.

“Obsidian. On account of…” He tapped the hand again. It didn’t sound hollow, more like a weight that had to be dragged around.

“How shall I find you?” If he knew anything about the Bounty Hunter, I was determined to get it out of him.

He raised his dark eyebrows. “You don’t. I have more than enough problems, and I don’t need yours.” Obsidian wandered back to the counter and picked up a battered black hat. He walked out without looking back.

If he had a tab, he was local. He also had a magical injury and knew more about Bounty Hunters than he was telling. 

Meet the Author Monday - Lucy Felthouse

Lucy is a graduate of the University of Derby, where she studied Creative Writing. During her first year, she was dared to write an erotic story - so she did. It went down a storm and she's never looked back. Lucy has had stories published by Cleis Press, Constable and Robinson, House of Erotica, Noble Romance, Ravenous Romance, Resplendence Publishing, Summerhouse Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour and Seducing the Myth. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Why do you write the stories you write?

Some are in response to calls for submissions. Others are ones that just pop into my head and pester me until I write them down. I don't tend to worry too much about where stories are going, I just write while I'm in the mood and figure everything else out later.

What are your writing goals for this year?

One is to submit a novella to a publisher I've wanted to work with for a while. The second one is to write (and hopefully get published) a sequel to one of my short stories, Bite with Height. It's a paranormal lesbian romance and is my best-selling, and also my favourite release. There's also much more of the characters' story to tell, which is why I'm planning to devote a whole novel to them J

Do you have any releases scheduled for this year?

So far, I have three confirmed standalone releases. One is a BDSM mini-anthology from House of Erotica, called Punish Me Good, which is due this month. The Cottage in the Woods is a lesbian shapeshifter romance coming from Resplendence Publishing on 29^th February. The cover for that is already up on my website. I also have a novella (my first!) coming from Xcite Books in April, an erotic romance called Off the Shelf. I have a hopeless crush on the hero of that particular story J

I also have several stories due to be released in various anthologies, as well as lots of stories I'm waiting to hear back on. Fingers crossed I'll get some more acceptances!

What do you like to read? 

All kinds of things. I like to read erotica and erotic romance, naturally. I love romantic comedies, paranormal romance, fantasy stuff, some horror (though not too terrifying!), crime, thrillers, etc... basically if it's an enthralling story, I'll read it.

What would you like to know from readers?

I love feedback! Many authors will say how important it is – and we mean it! Personally I find it useful to find what people are enjoying the most (so I can make sure to write more of it), or what kind of things they like to read. I'm planning on branching out into m/m this year – so I'd be interested to know if readers prefer to read by genre, or whether they will read lots of different works by their favourite authors.

*****

My latest release:

A wedding, an evil plan, a love story and a sacrifice are the order of the day in this modern retelling of Snow White and the Huntsman.

Susie White and her stepmother-to-be have never seen eye to eye, despite all of Susie’s best efforts to be friendly. Eager not to spoil her father’s happiness, Susie still agrees to be bridesmaid at their wedding. When the big day comes, she meets Louise’s right hand man, Scott. Susie had never believed in love at first sight until that moment. The pair hit it off, sharing a mutual dislike of Louise and her wicked ways. Their camaraderie quickly develops into something more, and they date in secret until it’s time for Susie to leave for University – and freedom. Unfortunately, Scott has an earth-shattering revelation, which means the two of them of them must work together to unravel Louise’s evil plan, before it’s too late.

More info, excerpt and buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/susie-white-and-the-right-hand-man/