Flame, I apologize that it took me so long to get this up for you.
Tell us a little bit about
yourself- I was born to write, but it took me a long time to find the right
publisher. News event inspire a lot of my writing, and strangers I happen to
meet who peak my interest. Christmas
Eve, my erotic romance Evernight Publishing recently released, was inspired
by a trip to Mt. Charleston outside of Las Vegas to play in the snow with my
granddaughter.
Blurb-
In a blinding snowstorm
on Christmas Eve, the jaded owner of
a posh Las Vegas casino mistakes the stranded real estate agent at his door for
the classy call girl he's expecting to heat up his holiday.
Passions ignite. Eve
has learned men believe bedding her the most direct route to her wealth. Nick's
female companions always want the keys to his Ferrari and to his safe deposit
box, never to his heart, so he distrusts the entire lot and expects to simply
walk away unscathed when his brief time with Eve ends.
Neither expects to give
marriage a try, but hearts have a way of going where cautious souls refuse, and
after screwing their heads off for six days and nights Nick and Eve discover
without love their former lives were little more than empty shells.
Excerpt-
Finally. Nick St. Clair took one last look around. Everything
seemed in order. Don't let your
irritation at your hired date's tardiness show. She might have a reasonable
excuse for being late.
Straightening the lapels of his
hip-length robe, he crossed to the door. Beneath the robe, black silk pajama
pants provided minimal warmth but kept him decent.
"I'm sorry to disturb
you," the statuesque woman on his porch said with a bright smile,
"but I've done something really stupid and wondered if you—"
"Don't just stand
there." Nick opened the door wider, anxious to see what his credit card
had purchased this time. "Come in."
"Thanks." After a slight
hesitation, the woman stepped gracefully inside. Ice crystals clung to the fine
wool scarf wrapped loosely around her neck, and to her stylish boots. She was
all bundled up in a long coat, but Nick's mind's eye had no difficulty
sketching what he hoped was hidden underneath.
The lady wore far too many clothes.
"I'm afraid my boots are
wet." She glanced first at him. His welcoming smile seemed to stun her.
She stared at her boots. "Where would you like me to stand?"
"By the fire." Nick
indicated the hearth. "You look frozen." Although in need of a woman,
he had no desire to bed an icicle. He wasn't that desperate. Yet.
She crossed the room at a slow
pace, her fluid movements an aphrodisiac to him, although each tentative step
left behind a patch of melting ice. Sex-deprived man that he was, his living
room suddenly felt too warm. Things were looking up.
"I've been busy on the
computer," he said, surprised by the sudden gruffness of his usually
smooth voice. He joined her before the fire. "I hadn't noticed it had
begun to snow."
A soft-looking, hooded leather
coat covered her to her ankles. What lay beneath all those layers?
To his surprise, the unknown
whetted his appetite. "Here, let me help you out of that coat."
"No."
No? Her response drew Nick up short.
"That won't be
necessary," she said, her sexy eyes wide. "I'll just keep it on,
since I'm hoping we'll be going right back out."
Out? Was this some sort of sex game played to excite him?
"Problem is..." She
paused, smiling up at him, even daring to bat her eyes.
Unusual eyes, those. Emeralds,
flecked with gold, and about all Nick could see of his date at the moment. He
found the situation so damned erotic he began to sweat.
"... my car slid in the ditch
next door," she added, drawing his thoughts from what treasures her long
coat might hide. "I wouldn't bother you, but this mountain seems to be out
of my cell phone's service area and I wondered if I might use your phone to
call for a tow."
The dimple nestled in
the satiny cheek nearest Nick flirted with him as she spoke. Intriguing. Might as well play along.
"Sure."
Now for some fun:
Ten Tantalizing Teasers-
Plotter or Pantser? A little
of both, I guess. I like to know my stories will come to a satisfying
conclusion and the guy will get the gal before I start writing, but I no longer
outline in great detail. I like the little surprises my characters sometime
have in store for me, and give them more freedom than I once did.
Which Goddess best defines you? Pandora,
but I doubt she is considered a Goddess. I'm incurably inquisitive. Who? Why?
What? When? And Where? Wanting the answers to those questions is what once made
me a successful newspaper reporter.
Favorite Dessert? Praline
ice cream.
Chocolate or Vanilla? Chocolate,
of course
Favorite scent? Coffee
brewing
Coffee, tea, soda, or water? Coffee.
My father drank gallons of coffee every day. I'm not that bad, but I do enjoy a
morning cup of good-smelling coffee.
Do you have to set the mood to
write? If so, how? I set the mood with roses, scented candles and soft
music playing in the background.
Do you have a favorite
character? Why? Nick St. Clair, the hero of Christmas Eve, is my current favorite, a man so busy building his
fortune he relies on an escort service to provide female companions to heat up
his down time. He is suave and debonair and filthy rich to boot, but he doesn't
flaunt his wealth and has not forgotten his roots. He knows how to make a lady
feel special and isn't ashamed to admit he's a romantic, through and through.
Who wouldn't want to be stranded with him in a mountain cabin during a blinding
snow storm?
Morning, afternoon, evening, or
late night writer? I can write anytime, I just don't make enough time.
If you weren’t writing, what
would be your occupation? If I wasn't a writer I'd be a house painter. If I
had the time I'd give every room in my house a fresh coat of paint every two
years, shove the furniture around to new locations and give replace the windows
a fresh, new treatment. I can no long do that and write, too.
Links:
You'll find Flame hanging out here:
http://flamearden.wordpress.com/
You can download Christmas Eve here:
Or from your favorite eBook
store
Flame Arden speaks talks
like a well-bred Southern lady, but writes hot love scenes with squirm factor,
so you be the judge.
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