Thursday, February 7, 2013

Tag, I'm It!

I've been tagged. In a blog-hop that is. 

A blog-hop that wants me to talk about my latest book. Really? I thought you'd never ask. 

Thank you to Tristina Wright, Mistress of Awesome, Colorful Hair, for tagging me. Her book rocks hard. Go read her blog-hop post and swoon over Lucas. You can thank me later. 

Tristina asked some questions about my new manuscript. She must know how much I love to talk about myself, characters. 

I have three books under contract, and I can't talk about those (I'm sorry), but luckily, I have a shiny brand-new one that I can go on and on and on...anyway, here are those questions:

What is the working title of your book?

CONSTANT CRAVING is the working title, but if past history is any indication, my publisher will want it changed for various reasons. *sigh*

 Where did the idea come from for the book?

Ah, real life events? Really, yes, real life combined with a dash of whimsy, and fascination with my family's Native American heritage. 

Many years ago, a friend of mine was killed. His family had a string of strange occurrences happen after his death, one of which, was the appearance of an eagle feather that would crop up in the oddest places, at the oddest time, and then disappear just as quickly. No matter how you feel about magic or the power of the dead, you have to admit, it's a little intriguing, right?

So, I always wondered 'what if' that feather had meaning...if it was a sign or a a message. That got the plot for CONSTANT CRAVING moving along. 

The love story between Beckett and Darby challenges stereotype, racism and general obstacles, made all the more difficult by a terrible secret hanging over them both.  

 What genre does your book fall under?

Adult contemporary romance with a *dash* (just a dash) of paranormal. 

The trope is reunited lovers. *dreamy sigh*

What actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

This is tough. I'm really not sure. I'd have to say Jay Tavare for Beckett. And, while she's not an actress per say, Amy Lee would make a great Darby.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

I am represented by the very savvy Nalini Akolekar of Spencerhill Associates. I have no doubt she'll find a lovely home for this book.  

 How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?
I'm still working on it, but should  be done by mid-March. Generally, I can complete a first draft in about 8-weeks. I started working on CC almost a year ago, but put it aside to finish up other projects. 

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

Wondering, 'what if' and lots of 'could have beens' inspired this book.

 What else about the book might pique the reader’s interest?

I'll just cheat and do what everyone else has done (plus it's more fun to actually post a snippet)!

Here' s a teaser from CONSTANT CRAVING:

Beckett stood just behind her, close enough for his body heat to rival that of the bon-fire against her cheek. Darby’s breath caught as she absorbed his clean scent, a tingle of pleasure dancing over her face and down her neck. The fire crackled as Beckett hunkered down next to her. The fabric of his shirt brushed against her arm. Darby closed her eyes and trembled. Her hands spread palms down on the log to steady her shaking body. Damn, he was so close. 

He was watching her and Darby was in no way prepared for the catapult of emotions his expression gave her. His eyes never strayed from her face as he placed a marshmallow on the silver stick and popped it in the fire. Flames licked and claimed the soft white treat, sizzling the marshmallow to a singed brown in an instant. Beckett lifted it, reaching across her to pluck a strawberry from the bowl next to her. He shifted on his knee and dipped the strawberry into the gooey marshmallow, twirling the fruit until it was covered with sweet white strings. 

Darby turned then and her heart hitched. Beckett’s jaw was clean shaven and so very, very smooth in the flickering orange light. The little indent in his lower lip was deeper with shadow, enhancing the firm outline of his delectable lips, the rise of his cheekbones strong and so utterly male. His hair was loose, hanging in rich silky strands over his broad shoulders to his lower back. Darby’s lips parted as unsteady breath forced its way in and out. 

Beckett lay the stick down, holding the strawberry and perusing it. The tip of his tongue brushed against his lower lip and Darby felt a throb uncurl deep in her belly. He brought the berry to his lips, the lids of his almond-shaped eyes growing heavy. Beckett paused, his gaze sweeping her mouth as he slowly bit the tip of the strawberry and pulled it back, strings of marshmallow falling in little ribbons from his mouth. One corner of his mouth turned up. Darby couldn’t pull her eyes away from his tongue as he licked his lips, the wicked half-smile growing more deadly. Before she could respond, Beckett graced the strawberry across her lips, slowly, gently. It was cold and warm and dripping with juice.

            “Strawberry, Darby?” His eyes were so intense; Darby thought her heart might stop from the sheer force of sex in his expression. She tasted sweetness on her lips, wondered how delicious it would be to sample the nectar from Beckett’s mouth. Darby grabbed his hand with hers, fingers lacing the back of his hand and holding him steady. 

            “I thought you’d never ask,” she nipped marshmallow from the side of the berry. Her tongue swept along the side, caressing more marshmallow, until her lips met his fingers where he held the fruit. Everything inside her exploded. Her body ached, demanded, needed with a furious storm. A sound growled from her throat…a moan, a cry? She didn’t know. It didn’t matter. 

Gods, it didn’t matter. 

            Beckett’s right hand shot to the back of her head, his fingers twining in her hair. He leaned so fast, the ends of his long hair whipped against her neck. He stopped, the strawberry the only thing separating their lips. Darby closed her eyes. It hurt, damn it. To want this. To crave him like this. 

            “Dammit, Beckett, kiss me.” Her chest heaved. Darby forced her eyes open, met his leaden gaze. He bit the strawberry. Once. Twice, until it was half its size, each bite bringing him closer to her lips. His sweet breath washed over her, arching anticipation to the moon.  Darby tightened her grip on his hand, biting her side of the berry as he bit his, the fruit fading away. A zing of heat from his mouth swept over hers but he didn’t clear the minuscule space. Just a whisper, a breath…a heartbreak away from that mouth. That perfect, incredible, bring-her-to-tears, Beckett mouth. 

            “Please,” Darby whispered. She hated the need in her voice, but stopping it was like death. 

            “No,” Beckett's fingers slid through her hair as he pulled away.  “I told you to leave Red Rock, Darby and I wasn’t kidding. By the end of the week, I expect you’ll be gone.”

Thanks for tagging me, Tristina. To keep this fun blog-hop going, here are five authors I'm poking with that virtual ruler:

Tristina (Because we want more Lucas)

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