Well, before I start talking about myself, let me wish you a very Happy Birthday Emily!!!
I’m a multi-published m/m erotic romance author, who believes that everyone deserves a love story. I live in the middle of the desert, and when I’m not working the dreaded “day job” I can usually be found sitting in my office writing, or sprawled on the couch reading. I have an evil (yet adorable) cat named Pistol, whose antics inspire a lot of the animal characteristics of characters in my books.
I have ten books published, with plenty more in the works! My readers can find my books at Silver Publishing, Torquere Press, and Dreamspinner Press.
How did you get started writing?
Gosh, I don’t even remember how I got started. Growing up, I was always the kid who wrote crazy, outlandish stories to entertain people. When everyone else was writing about a puppy in the park, I was writing about aliens, vampires, evil twins, and detective adventures. Being an avid reader, I always wanted my stories to live up to the books I was reading. I think from the time I was young I knew I wanted to be a writer and published author.
As to how I got started writing m/m romance, that’s a bit more clear. The simple answer is I started reading it, and then when I ran out of stories to read, I decided to take a chance and try writing my own… the rest is, as they say, history.
So I love your Outside the City series, what was the inspiration behind it?
Outside the City was inspired by one of those random thought chains I have constantly, one day while I was outside tending to my garden. I
remember thinking how much I loved gardening and how much I was dreading winter coming and my plants dying. Then I started thinking about how much it would suck if I could never garden, if plants were actually illegal, and with that, the idea for the character, Raine (Nature of the Beast) was born.
The story just seemed to flow from there.
Also, rumor has it that Melting the Ice Prince started out as a story on your blog. How much work does it take to go from blog story to published work? And what’s easier, writing a story for your blog or writing a story to be published?
That’s true! Melting the Ice Prince was originally a story on my blog. It was a weekly post for months, up until the last couple chapters. After that it came off the blog, I finished the book, and sent it in for publication.
My blog stories take weeks of planning before they even start. I always have a general outline of the story, but then each week the story twists and turns at will. My characters lead the story… I know the beginning and the end, and often times I’m just as surprised as my readers about what will happen each week. I have t take time, every week (Usually the Saturday or Sunday before it’s to be posted) and write it out. It’s not like a regular WIP where I can take my time and work at my leisure. I have a Monday morning deadline and my readers expect it to by posted.
After it’s finished, then the real work begins. I’ve got to complete the story, do edits, send it off to my Beta reader, more edits, and then it tentatively goes off the publisher….. then I wait and bite my nails until I hear back. Blog stories are pretty hard work.
I actually think they might be harder than just writing a story to be published right away. Just simply for the fact that on a normal WIP, I can make mistakes and no one knows. If I screw up on the blog, my readers definitely catch it! LOL
What’s the one genre you haven’t written in yet that you’d like to?
I think it would be cool to do an old-time sleuth/detective novel… I’ve always wanted to write one.
So I’d say probably something purely mystery based… that’s a genre I’d like to write in someday.
Are there any genres you won’t read or write in? Why?
Not really…. I’m pretty open-minded when it comes to both reading and writing. I’ll give anything a try one, reading and writing wise. It may work, or not by my cup of tea, but unless I try it out I’ll never know.
So, what are you working on right now? Got any releases planned, or still writing?
Currently, I’m working on the sequel to Love’s Crash Landing… it’s been slow going but coming along. Once that’s finished, I’ll be working on the next book in my Brotherhood Series, and then I’ll be back to the Outside the City world.
Plus, I’m sure there will be a couple stand alone stories popping up every now and then.
Alright, one last question. Do you have a favorite memory from your 21st birthday?
I think my favorite memory for my 21st birthday was going out to a bar (legally) and singing karaoke with my friends and family. It was a blast. My mom got up on stage and wailed like a cat in heat, and my brother brought the house down with his rendition of Shania Twain’s “Feel like a Woman.”
To this day I can’t not smile when I think about that night.
Thanks so much for taking the time to stop by!
Thanks for having me here… and again Happy Birthday!
Now, I have two books I’d like to promo today…. The first is Book 3 of my Outside the City series, titled Redemption of the Beast.
Two men surrounded by misunderstanding and danger must find the strength to show each other and the world that they belong together and will fight for their bond against those who wish to destroy it.
Micah Sanders has been in love with the Warrior, Sashan, since he was a boy. But the strong, quiet Katrian shies away from him, making Micah believe his weak body and childhood illnesses are keeping them apart.
Sashan is a troubled Katrian who has lost his way. Emotionally scarred, he hides from the world and the one man who could complete him, feeling unworthy of his mate.
When Micah is kidnapped, will Sashan find the strength to rescue his mate, discover what the City plans next for the Katrian people, and learn who the monstrous traitor is behind all their troubles? Most importantly, will a seemingly unworthy Beast finally find the redemption he seeks in the arms of his love?
He stood there, unable to fully process what he was hearing. Venom spewed from the mouth of the one man he'd cherished above all others, searing his ears with the vile words and tearing out pieces of his fragile soul. Eyes alight with madness glared at him with hate and it was all he could do not to cower in fear of the blows that usually followed that look--ones he had learned to hide over the years from his well-meaning cousins and family. Staring into those dark eyes, he shivered in fear of this man before him.
The Betrayer--his abuser, his beloved twin brother.
How could he have missed the signs? He knew the evil that lived inside his brother, knew that evil intimately. He had felt the pain of disappointment and scorn Rashan held for him; more importantly, he knew the pain of the bruises and deep aches of the beatings he'd received over the years from his twin. Sometimes, he'd been unable to rise from his bed because the pain had been so bad. Other times it had taken him weeks to heal, and even then the lightest brush of contact against his injuries had nearly sent him crashing down in agony.
But no one ever noticed. No one ever commented on a bruised cheek, split lip, or black eye. And he had stayed silent and endured the pain because the one delivering the punishments was the one man he'd shared his mother's womb with--and the one man he didn't know how to live without.
He'd always blamed himself for making Rashan angry. After all, there had to have been something wrong with him for continuing to make his brother so hateful. What other reason would there be for the anger and rage his twin showed him? Rashan never showed any of his anger toward anyone else in the village. The blame must lie in him. It was as Rashan always said; he was too stupid and worthless to belong to the Katria.
Seeing his brother now, eyes filled with anger and rage as he held captive Raine, the little human mate of their cousin, was almost too much. It hurt his heart to see his brother standing alone, facing down their cousins, Maltok and Ashlon--the one Rashan had betrayed to a horrible fate at the City's hands. He wished he could walk over and take his brother into his arms like he used to do when they were kits, before the humiliation of their father's defeat had poisoned his twin's heart and mind. But it had been a long time since Rashan had been willing to find comfort in his twin's arms and he knew that the madman standing there, holding an innocent man hostage, was not the same boy he had loved all those years ago.
How could Rashan do this to me? To our family? To our people? Do I really mean nothing to him?
Tears filled his eyes at the thought of his brother's ultimate betrayal, but he refused to let them fall.
"Rashan, how could you? My brother, how could you betray me this way?" His words were whispered, as if the effort of speaking louder was too much for his damaged soul to handle.
"Oh, shut up, Sashan!" Rashan snarled and his eyes glowed with an unholy light, his inner beast surfacing for a moment. He could see the claws of his brother's hand lengthen where Rashan held his large hand around Raine's delicate throat. "You knew Father counted on us to return our family to the rightful place in the tribe. But instead you were too weak to do what needed to be done. Not like me! You rolled over and exposed your belly to our cousins and uncle--became their friend and confidant. You make me sick! I am disgusted we even share a face! You are a weak and spineless man and I am ashamed to call you brother!"
Each word was like a crushing blow to his already brittle self-esteem. He knew his brother was ashamed of his weakness but until that moment, he had never realized that Rashan truly hated him. Glancing around, he could see the pity on the faces of the men at his side, and shame filled him for being so powerless in the face of his twin.
The fight was quickly getting out of hand. Maltok and Ashlon stared Rashan down and he could tell the moment his brother realized he was out of time and the only way he could escape his fate was to kill them all.
"Let. My. Mate. Go!" Ashlon snarled. Reddish-brown fur sprouted over his body, wicked looking talons grew from his fingertips and his eyes became golden slits as Ashlon's beast realized the danger to his mate.
A sinister smirk drifted across Rashan's mouth and only years of sparring with his twin allowed Sashan to notice the coiled tension in Rashan's muscles. Too late he realized what his brother intended and just as he prepared to leap forward, Rashan spoke and signed his own death warrant.
"Fine. You want him, try to save him."
Raine's eyes widened as if he knew what was going to happen. Maltok and Ashlon leapt forward but it was too late to stop Rashan; he raked his claws across the smaller man's vulnerable throat and let the little mate fall, cackling madly as he met Ashlon's attack head on by transforming into his Tiger.
Sashan dropped to his knees, unable to believe what he was seeing. Ashlon fought Rashan in a half-shifted form, facing down Rashan's seven hundred pound Tiger with rage and madness in his eyes. Near the battle, Maltok clutched Raine in his arms, doing his best to staunch the stream of blood from the dying man's neck.
His twin was destroying everything and Sashan was once again powerless to stop him.
Next, we have my most recent release, Melting the Ice Prince. You can get a copy here
Two men with walls of ice surrounding their hearts must learn to look past the masks each other wears in order to discover the love of a lifetime that waits hidden inside.
David Talhoone's whole life revolves around taking care of his special needs older brother, Sammy. Untrusting, he protects his heart with an icy and cool demeanor, earning him the nickname Ice Prince at work. It's a description David's proud of, until the day his boss's son walks through the door.
Nick Masterson takes one look at the cool beauty with fire in his eyes and has to have him. But after being brutally rejected, he makes a bet that he'll be able to melt David's shell and win his heart without managing to give away his own in the process. But Nick didn't count on the man beneath the icy mask being everything he'd ever wanted in a partner.
Can a relationship based on lies last once the truth finally comes out?
"Look, Davey! Look at that dog!" Sammy cried, his excitement evident as he bounced along the path through Central Park, pointing just ahead of them.
David Talhoone smiled at his older brother's antics. "I see it, Sam. Should we ask the lady if we can pet him?"
Sammy's dark eyes lit up. "Can we, Davey? Can we really?"
David took his brother's hand, pulling him along gently. "Sure, it never hurts to ask, right? But you can't get upset if she says no, okay?"
"Okay, Davey!" Sammy chirped, practically vibrating with eager excitement. David laughed.
"Come on silly, standing here isn't going to get us to meet him." He chuckled, leading the way over to the older woman sitting on the nearby bench. The woman readily agreed to let Sammy pet her small dog and smiled indulgently as Sammy sat down on the sidewalk to cuddle the happy little Shih Tzu in his lap. Sammy's excited laugh echoed out into the surrounding park, garnering some quizzical looks, but David had long learned to ignore them.
David let his brother lavish attention on the dog for a few moments more, before reaching down to ruffle Sammy's dark brown hair.
"Time to go, buddy. Say thank you to the lady," David said gently, helping his brother up.
"Okay, Davey," Sammy said, before turning to the older woman. "Thanks for letting me pet your dog. I love him!"
The older woman smiled. "Would you like to give him a treat?" she asked. "Button just loves a nice, chewy treat."
Sammy nodded and eagerly held out his hand. Button did indeed love treats, hopping up on his back legs and dancing excitedly. Sammy thought it was hilarious and spent many long moments laughing in the deep belly laugh that reminded David so much of their father. Thank God Sammy's laugh never had the evil undertones that the bastard who raised them always had.
David smiled at the woman. "Thanks," he said softly.
The older woman just nodded. "I taught Special Education for twenty years," she confided. She nodded toward Sammy, who was once again sitting on the sidewalk and petting the dog. "Is he autistic?"
David nodded. "Yeah," he said, ignoring the pitying look the woman gave him. "Asperger's. But he's high functioning so, you know, it's not always so bad. He's just mostly a bit simple."
Looking at Sammy, one would never guess that the almost six-foot tall, handsome twenty-eight-year-old man was autistic. It wasn't until you heard him speak and looked into eyes that were usually wide in childlike joy that you actually noticed something wasn't quite right. Still, that didn't stop women from gawking and hitting on David's older brother... like the two female joggers that were going by and obviously checking Sammy out. Why they always did that, David didn't understand. But he just did what he usually did and glared at the women until they went by.
Just because Sammy looked normal didn't mean he was. David had been protecting and caring for his older brother since he was nine years old and Sammy was twelve. He wasn't going to stop any time soon.
"Well, thanks again," he said, holding out a hand for Sammy to take. He waited for the woman and Sammy to exchange good-byes before leading them both farther into Central Park. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon and they still had a way to go in their weekly walk through the large park.
He listened with half an ear to Sammy's excited chatter, paying more attention to the group of teenage kids hanging out by the entrance of the small bridge they were about to cross. David had long ago learned how to identify the type of people who might cause problems with Sammy and was always prepared to defend him. He'd had years of practice, thanks to Sammy and his parental units, and he never hesitated when a fight arose.
The baggy pants and colored bandanas, not to mention the malicious gleam in the teenagers' eyes told David they were going to be trouble. He and Sammy had just stepped up onto the bridge when the taunting started.
"Hey guys, look at those fags holding hands," one kid taunted.
"Candy asses think they can come into our park and spread around their gayness. I say we beat it out of them," another boy replied.
"Come 'ere, fag," a dark-skinned young man said, stepping forward and grabbing his crotch obscenely while the other boys laughed. "I gots a nice juicy cock for ya ta suck right 'ere. Come an' get it!"
David could feel the anger building inside him, the comments hitting a bit too close to home. The only outward sign of his irritation was the slight flush that crawled across the back of his neck, mostly hidden by his shaggy fall of dark hair and slightly tanned skin tone he had inherited from his Italian mother. His face remained icy calm, another thing he had perfected from the pain of dealing with his childhood.
"Davey?" Sammy asked, sounding much smaller and younger than he looked, fear and worry in his eyes. Despite his disabilities, he too remembered similar taunts from their shared childhood, and also remembered the beatings that came with them.
Normally, David could ignore the comments aimed at him and his sexuality. In truth he really was gay, but he certainly wasn't going to be sharing that information with these hooligans. He never knew how some people could just tell that he was gay, since he'd never acted on his feeling for fear someone might use it against him and try to take away Sammy, but he was sure that with these boys that wasn't the case. They were just looking for an easy target to have fun with, and David had the unfortunate privilege of being chosen. Normally, he didn't care and would just walk away; but the moment someone threatened his brother, all bets were off.
"It's okay, Sammy," David soothed. "Just stay right here."
He left Sammy standing at the entrance to the bridge and walked over to the small group of kids, noticing as he got closer that they couldn't be over fifteen years old at the most. Damn, what was wrong with the way parents were raising their kids these days? What make these punks think this kind of activity was okay?
"Hey," he said, the moment he got close enough to be heard without
shouting. The boys turned to look at him; all of them looked a bit surprised at his approach. No doubt they were used to people just walking away and ignoring them when they got to acting like jackasses.
"What da fuck you wan', fag?" the dark-skinned boy asked, obviously re-gathering his earlier bluster. "Gonna take me up on my offer?" he asked amid snickers.
David grinned, but there was nothing pleasant about it and the snickers were abruptly cut off. "Hardly. I just wanted to let you know that you are making fun of an autistic man, and since you're acting like an ignorant little pissant, you probably don't know what that means. It means he has disabilities and is actually my brother. Of course, if you had stopped and used your small brain for a minute, you probably would have noticed the family resemblance. But you were too busy being a cavorting idiot to do so. I just wanted to let you, your friends, and all the people paying attention to us now, know how much of a scum-sucking loser you really are, making fun of a special needs person. I'm sure your mama is proud of the asshole you are growing up to be. Give her my regards."
With that, he turned on his heel and returned to the bridge, ignoring the smattering of applause from some of the crowd that had gathered to watch. Taking Sammy's hand, he pulled him away from the red-faced boys and led him toward a nearby ice cream truck.
"They were being really mean, Davey." Sammy frowned, seemingly puzzled by the teenagers' behavior. "Why?"
God, sometimes Sammy's innocence just kills me. This is why I have to take care of him.
This is why I always will.
I’m offering one lucky reader who comments on this post the option to pick any of my published books and get a pdf copy! Make sure to leave your name and email address. Contest ends April 30th. And don’t forget to enter for the grand prize!
Amylea Lyn is a little odd, a lot weird, and just plain strange. At least that's what everyone tells her. She lives in the middle of a desert, filling
her laptop with too many stories to count. Most days, Amylea can be found sitting in her favorite chair after work, bugging those around her for fun tidbits to make her stories more interesting. When she's not writing, Amylea spends her time daydreaming her fantasies, talking to herself without realizing it, experimenting with different baked dishes that she force feeds her family, and plotting ways to get back at her psychotic cat. All in all, she likes to think of herself as pretty normal... even if it's only by her own standards.