Today, I have a very special guest on my blog. She's gonna answer my pesky questions! I love it when people do that! Plus, we get an excerpt from her new book, Priceless!!!!!!!!
K: First up is a question I've been wanting to ask since I started reading your work. A lot of your writing contains non-human elements. What draws you to that?
M. A.:I’d have to say the ability to do whatever I want with them. There are no pre-established lines drawn in the sand. I can get as crazy as I want lol.
K.: That's true. So who would you say is the biggest influence on your writing?
M. A.:Tali Spencer.
K.:What is the strangest comment you ever received about one of your stories?
M. A.: *Laugh* I was told once I had balls down to my knees for something I posted on Literotica. That’s still one of my most favorite comments!
K.: Well, given that you have such impressive metaphorical balls, I now want to know: Have you ever doubted yourself as a writer and if so, how did you overcome it?
M. A.: Oh Lord, absolutely. I really went through that when I posted on Lit. Some of the comments could be brutal. Frankly, I had no idea how to react to some of the things said. So, I didn’t say anything at all. I stewed over it for a little while, then tried to put it aside and move on. I’ve learned what I write won’t appeal everyone. And… that’s okay.
K.:That's true. So, describe your ideal environment for writing. What time of day is it? Is there music?
M. A.:Oh no, no music. I’ll end up writing whatever is playing lol. And I *know* this because I’ve done it lol! Quiet is the main thing I want. If the kids are here, and the hubby is here, forget it… no writing will get done. After about the fifth “Mom!” or “Honey?” I’m through.
I write anytime I can. But I have to say I’m fresher in the mornings even though I prefer the night.
K.: The zombie apocalypse has started. Your weapon is the closest item to your left. What is it?
M. A.: *Snort* To the left, huh?
*Looks over at Kitty-Kitty sleeping by me* I’m in deep trouble lol.
K.:I think you'll make it! Cats are all secretly ninjas of course. So, do you ever mentally cast actors as characters in your stories?
M. A.: Naw, not really. I have character features in mind, then I go Google to see if I can find someone that comes close. I do the same with places. It actually works pretty well!
K.: What's the best advice anyone has ever given you?
M. A.: Ignore the haters.
K.: Solid advice there. What's your guilty pleasure?
M. A.: Chocolate. My God, I can eat the stuff until I’m sick lol. So, I try to stay away from it. *Eyes the candy bowel full of Reese’s*
Hehe, I did say try. :)
K.: Last thing. Is there any message you'd like to share with readers?
M. A.: If you have a question… ask. You’d be surprised how many authors’ are willing to talk about what they write, why they write, or how they got into whatever they write.
Find M. A.'s books here:
Amazon author page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B007A8JA4C
DSP author page: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/index.php?cPath=55_650
Stalk her here:
Facebook: M.A. Church http://www.facebook.com/pages/MA-Chur...
Now for the juicy stuff!
Sparks ignite when Cupid takes aim at two mortals in Las Vegas: Randy Jones, an average guy on a company vacation, looks into Garrett’s eyes at a craps table and time stands still. Throwing aside everything he believes, Randy engages in a torrid two-night affair with Garrett—only to panic when he realizes he’s fallen in love.
Cynical billionaire Garrett Shiffler has everything money can buy, and most of his dates can’t see past the dollar signs. Life has taught him that innocence and love are figments of the imagination. But when Randy disappears, taking with him feelings Garrett thought he’d never know, Garrett wages the most important battle of his life to win Randy's love—but this time he fights with his heart, not his bank account.
Meanwhile, Cupid wonders what happened. His golden arrows never fail unless the Fates interfere. If Garrett wants to win Randy back, he’s going to have to do it on his own, because the Fates have other plans for Cupid.
They stepped closer and Randy’s body was as tense as a drawn bow. What would a suave, sophisticated guy do in this situation? Suave, right. Randy just hoped he didn’t make an idiot out of himself.
Randy’s breathing increased as he chewed his lip. His heart sped up as Garrett leaned into him. Would the kiss be hard and brutal, his mouth claimed by an onslaught of passion that would leave him breathless and bruised? He moaned in surprise as Garrett’s mouth sweetly moved on his.
From one heartbeat to the next, pleasure exploded in Randy’s mind. He hadn’t expected such gentleness. Throwing caution to the wind, he grasped Garrett’s hips and pulled him closer. Garrett’s tongue explored his mouth, that sinful goatee tickling his chin. When Garrett nudged his head to the side and nibbled a path down Randy’s neck, he willingly bared his throat. And moaned again when Garrett sucked hard on the tender skin near his collarbone.
Randy, squirming from the sensations, rubbed his leg up and down Garrett’s thigh. One of Garrett’s hands drifted down and lifted Randy’s leg higher, palming his ass as he kneaded the firm flesh. The electricity that jumped between them had Randy shaking.
“Garrett,” Randy gasped as Garrett found a particularly good spot, “there’s gotta be cameras in here.”
Garrett held Randy tightly for a moment, their bodies crushed together, before he released him and moved away. He mumbled under his breath about how could Randy think, much less clearly, at that moment. Randy leaned against the elevator wall, eyes closed, and tried to bring his rampaging body under control. The elevator dinged and lurched to a stop, causing Randy to stumble into Garrett.
He slid his arm around Randy to steady him and didn’t let go when the doors parted. Garrett pulled Randy toward his suite, throwing the door open. Once inside he slammed the door shut, spun Randy around, and trapped him against the back of the door. He slammed his mouth over Randy’s, picking up where he left off in the elevator until Randy was gasping for air.
“Let me be very clear,” Garrett panted into his mouth. “I want you in my bed. I want you desperate, wild, and begging.”
“I’m to the desperate phase now.” Randy trembled, trapped between him and the door. “Wild is right around the corner, and begging isn’t far behind.”
Garrett’s thumb traced over Randy’s swollen bottom lip. “That’s what I like about you, Randy, you speak your mind and don’t play games. I can’t tell you what a turn on that is for me.”
“I don’t have the first clue how to play games like you’re talking about, nor do I want to.”
“And thank God for it.” That jaded little devil on Garrett’s shoulder rolled his eyes. This guy either was very good, or very innocent. “Now, let me show you my bedroom. I can’t wait much longer to have you in my bed.”
Garrett ushered him through the living area, not giving him time to admire the softly lit main area. He opened a door to a large room that held a beautifully made bed with a sinfully black silk bedspread. The room was done in dark woods and masculine tones with paintings and photography from some extremely well-known artists. It shrieked authority, money, and power. The curtains were open, letting in the light from the city.
Garrett stepped behind Randy and turned him toward the mirrored closet. Garrett unbuttoned his shirt, parted the fabric, and placed his hands on Randy’s stomach. Taking his time, he ran his hands up Randy’s chest, dragging the pleasure out until he reached those perky nipples that begged for attention. Garrett flicked both hard peaks, making Randy arch in his arms. Then he rolled them between his thumb and forefinger as they both watched their reflection.
“So very hot,” Garrett whispered in Randy’s ear as his fingers teased the nubs until Randy moaned.
Randy reached behind him and wrapped his arm around Garrett’s neck, dragging him closer. That bulge that pressed against Randy’s ass was huge and had his imagination sitting up, tail thumping. It had been a long time since a lover affected him this way. Randy leaned his head back against Garrett’s shoulder and watched, heavy-eyed, as Garrett’s hands drifted down and undid his belt.