I want to thank Roz Lee for stopping by today on her tour. I'm excited to welcome her. And since you're here reading the interview, why don't you comment? If you do, you could win a copy of the book KINKY CUPCAKES. I love to win things, so I'm commenting. Want to follow the rest of her tour? Click here!
What was your favorite scene to write in STILL TAKING CHANCES?
I loved writing the very first scene. It’s always my favorite to write because the adventure is just beginning for me, and my characters. In the opening scene of STILL TAKING CHANCES, Elgin is returning home after a 15-year absence. His last mission in a South American jungle went horribly wrong, for which he blames himself. And while he was there, his only relative – the grandmother who raised him, passed away. His pain and his loneliness spoke to me as I wrote that first scene. I just had to find a way for him to be happy.
What was the inspiration behind STILL TAKING CHANCES?
The idea began with a name. One day the name Elgin Huddleston popped into my head and I couldn’t ignore it. I know this might make me a candidate for a padded room in normal circles, but writers will think this isn’t unusual at all! It took me a while to figure out who Elgin was, but I think I got him right.
What is the most interesting thing you’ve done in the name of research?
Most of my research is deadly dull. Though I do get to shop for some interesting sex toys. The most fun was visiting the Museum of Sex in NYC. It’s surprisingly well done, and a legit museum with some very interesting exhibits. I took my husband with me. I learned a lot, and got to watch him blush every few minutes! If you ever get a chance to visit, don’t miss the Aphrodisiac Bar in the basement.
What do you consider as the most frustrating side of becoming a published author and what has been the most rewarding?
Frustrating? Hmm… I can’t think of a single thing! As for rewarding, that’s easy. You know how you feel when you tell a joke and everyone laughs? You know you told it right and you remembered the punch line, and you feel on top of the world. You entertained your friends, and their laughter and smiles are your affirmation. Well, that’s exactly how I feel when a reader emails me, or leaves a great review for one of my books. I know I told a story they enjoyed, and for a few hours, I made their life better. That’s the most rewarding thing in the world. It makes me want to tell another story, and another…
What accent inspires you to do naughty things?
I love a slow, Southern drawl. It makes me think of other things best done slow.
Name something readers would be surprised to learn about you?
Oh gosh! Readers would probably be surprised about lots of things. I’ve been married to the same guy for thirty-three years, and we have two grown daughters. I’m probably as far from being the stereotype of an erotic romance author as a person could get.
If you could ask the readers one question what would it be?
I’d ask them to tell me about their day. I’m always curious what people are up to and love to hear their stories. People go through their usual routines, and tend to miss the little instances in their day that make that one different than all the others.
What’s your writing process like?
Some writers plan every scene and chapter before they write a single word. That’s not me. I usually take an idea, like the name that inspired this book, and work it over in my mind for a while. I form the characters and setting in my mind, then I decide where to begin their story and how I think it should end. Then I start writing. I never know what exactly is going to happen in between. I let the characters lead me toward their happily ever after.
What can readers expect next from you?
I’ve got several things in the works, including a few non-erotic stories I’m dying to tell. I’ve never written a historical, but I’ve got an idea for an erotic historical I might try my hand at.
What is the best thing about being a writer? The worst?
The very best thing about being a writer are all the people I’ve met, writers and readers both. Romance writers are the nicest, most caring people you will ever meet, and I’ve never met one who wasn’t willing to extend a helping hand to a new author. I’m constantly amazed at the generosity of my fellow romance writers.
The worst thing…sitting on my behind for days, weeks, months, working. I know, nearly everyone does that these days, but when you do it all alone, it’s sort of like solitary confinement. I’d go nuts (yeah, I know my sanity is already in question) if it wasn’t for Facebook and Twitter. That’s how I connect with the outside world while I’m working. They’re my office water cooler. I even wrote an article to that effect once.
What is your method of breaking through writer’s block?
I clean the floors. Yep. If you come to my house, and the carpet has been vacuumed and the hardwood swept and mopped, then you know I’m at an impasse. It’s my version of stepping away and allowing my brain to rest.
What fuels you as an author to continue to write?
As long as the stories keep forming in my head, I’ll keep writing them down.
Can you tell us a bit about what book(s) you have coming out next and what you’re working on now?
I’m currently working on the fifth book in my Lothario series. The series is set on the Lothario, a sexual themed cruise ship, a.k.a. THE LUST BOAT. A friend refers to the series as The Love Boat on steroids! I think that’s a pretty accurate description. The fourth book in the series, FOUR OF HEARTS, releases on Nov. 1st, and I hope the fifth won’t be far behind.
When you get a chance to read, what books do you love to read?
I’m a big fan of Robyn Carr’s Virgin River series, and Sherryl Woods Chesapeake Bay series. I’ve been hooked on the Arcane series by Jayne Ann Krentz/Amanda Quick for a while now. In the erotic genre, I love Elizabeth Amber’s Satyr series. I’d buy those just for the covers, but the writing and storytelling is fabulous too.
What bores you as a reader?
No one. I read a wide range of work, including non-fiction books, and can’t remember ever being bored.
What is your favorite feature on a person?
I love to see people smile. You can learn a lot about a person by what makes them smile.
What is your favorite time of day?
I love the still of early morning, and the peaceful time right before sunset. That’s when the deer and bears come out around our house. I sit on the deck, weather permitting, and watch the show.
What music gets you dancing?
Promise not to laugh? Okay, 70’s music. I heard that. See if I tell you anything else.
Aliens have landed on the planet. What are the three things you would tell them that are great about this planet?
Terrorists, guns and bombs. Hopefully, they’d take all of them back home with them.
You have been locked in a mall and told you can get anything you want and when they open in the morning you won’t have to pay a single cent. What stores would you hit? Better question how would you haul away all your loot?
I’d head for the jewelry stores. What I couldn’t wear out, I’d stuff into oversized purses, preferably Michael Kors design, that I picked up from a few other stores.
If you could share one major writing tip, to help other writers in their quest for publication, what would it be?
Don’t give up. Something I didn’t understand before I was published is that you never give up the quest to be published. As soon as you sign the contract on the first book, you start trying to figure out how to sell the next one. Keep at it. We’re all in the boat with you!
If you could write in any other genre what would it be, and why?
I mentioned earlier about my vanilla and historical ideas. I’d like to try my hand at romantic comedy sometime too. We shall see.
Where can we find out more about you and your work?
Visit me on my website – www.rozlee.net
Or my blog – www.authorrozlee.blogspot.com
Or stop by my office watercooler – www.facebook.com/authorrozlee
Or tweet me at - www.twitter.com/Iwriteromance
Buy Link: http://www.eredsage.com/store/StillTakingChances.html
And finally, have you got a sneak peek excerpt from your current work in progress you can share with my readers and me? The hotter the better!
“Spread your feet apart.” She kicked his instep, and he slid his foot out. His shoulders screamed at the added stretch. “I’m going to ask you a question, Elgin, and I want an answer. You’ll stay here, just like this, until I get one. Is that clear?”
“I should have asked this one first. Do you have a safe word?”
“Okay. If you say Uncle, I’ll release you, and this will be over. We, will be over. Do you understand, Elgin?”
“Good. Now, I asked you this morning and you refused to answer, so I’m going to ask again. Where did the name Elgin come from?”
He’d be damned if he was going to tell her. As far as he knew, everyone who knew was dead, except him, and it was a story he fully planned to take to the grave with him. He held his tongue.
“Do you think I’m playing games here, Elgin? I assure you, I’m not. You will tell me.” Her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his jeans. He sucked in a breath as she flicked the top button open and pulled the zipper down. “Tighty-whities, Elgin? From now on you will come to me commando, no underwear. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mistress. I understand.”
A moment later, she shoved the underwear down just enough to free his limp penis and balls. She tucked the cotton briefs beneath his package and refastened the top button of his jeans. He looked past her bent head to see his penis hanging from his open zipper. The teeth of the zipper dug into his skin. He gritted his teeth and mentally called himself a stupid fucker in several languages. She didn’t look like a Lorena Bobbitt, but then again, Lorena Bobbitt didn’t look like the kind of woman who’d lop off a guy’s pecker either. He mentally went over the tools he’d seen on her workbench. Did sculptors use knives? He’d seen plenty of other tools there that could inflict serious damage, and that was enough to scare the bejesus out of him.
He closed his eyes and fought down the panic threatening to take him under. He’d never underestimated an opponent the way he’d underestimated Mary Beth Winters. He just hoped she wasn’t some kind of crazy serial killer. She took his penis in her soft little hand and toyed with it. He idly wondered if he’d ever have an erection again.
As if she’d read his mind, she said, “Don’t worry, Elgin. I’m not going to hurt you.” He felt the air stir around him as she moved away. He counted to one hundred before he opened his eyes. She’d removed the cowboy sculpture from her workbench and replaced it with a lump of clay covered with what looked like a wet towel. He watched as she removed the towel and began to work the clay with her hands.
She acted as if he wasn’t in the room. His shoulders burned, and his fingers grew numb from lack of blood flow. His legs and back hurt from trying to maintain his posture to relieve the pressure on his shoulders. If he relaxed even the slightest bit, his shoulders and arms protested. The one time he’d moved his feet a fraction of an inch, Mary Beth had looked up from her work and reminded him all he had to do was answer her question, and she’d let him go. Then she’d hopped off her throne, that’s what he was beginning to call her stool in his head, and kicked his feet further apart. “Don’t move them again,” was all she said before she returned to her work.
It seemed like hours he hung there. He wondered how long his arms and fingers could go without blood flow. Mary Beth ignored him. Time passed slowly. He focused on her hands, hoping to distract himself from his discomfort. Her hands were skilled at what she did. It didn’t take him long to come to that conclusion. The lump of clay was taking shape. He couldn’t make out exactly what she was doing, but somehow, he knew it would be exquisite when she was done.
“Why do you want to know about my name?”
She didn’t look up when she answered. “Names define people, don’t you think?”
“No. Who are you, Mary Beth Winters? You’re not like any fem-dom I’ve ever met.”
“I’m an open book, Elgin. If you want to know something about me, just ask.”
He did. He asked, and she answered. He learned she was from Houston. She owned the art gallery he’d seen in town, and mostly sold her art over the internet. “I have to have someplace to store it, so it might as well be on display while I’m waiting on a buyer. Sometimes people come to the gallery because they want to see a piece in person before they buy it. I also display and sell work from other local artists. It helps pay the bills.”
He learned she’d trained as a fem-dom in one of the best known clubs in Houston, and after she’d fallen for a sub and he’d confessed he only liked to play at the lifestyle, that he couldn’t live it for the rest of his life, she’d picked up stakes and moved to Prairieview. That bit of information about her training convinced him she knew what she was doing. By now, he’d pretty much decided he wasn’t in danger of losing his cock, which relieved him beyond measure.
She didn’t ask again about his name, and he’d run out of questions to ask, so he did his best to ignore his screaming muscles and concentrated on her hands. It wasn’t that she sculpted the clay as much as she seduced it into doing what she wanted. Hud imagined her hands on him, stroking, molding and coaxing. To his chagrin, his cock began to swell. He hoped to God she didn’t notice, but he wasn’t to be that lucky.
“You want me to touch you? Tell me what I want to know, Elgin and I’ll give you some relief. You want to come, don’t you?”
Mary Beth returned her attention to the clay. Every finger stroke drove him closer to the brink. He wanted her hands on him, on his cock. He tried to will his erection to go down, but once he had it in his head that he had to have her, it wouldn’t obey.
“If you don’t trust me enough to tell me something so personal, then tell me something else. Tell me why you came back to Prairieview.”
“That’s personal too,” he said through gritted teeth.
She slid off her throne and wiped her hands on a wet cloth she kept on the table. She went to the bathroom and a minute later he heard the water running. She came out with clean hands and rummaged in the canvas bag again. He cringed at the wicked piece of plastic in her hands. God, he was in deep trouble. No one had ever used one on him, but he’d seen plenty of other men milked before. It looked painful, and humiliating.
She stopped in front of him. Her fingers were cool as she stroked along his stubbled jaw, then brushed a lock of hair from his temple. “Tell me something, Elgin. Tell me something, so I’ll know you trust me. If you don’t, I’m going to use this on you.”
He clamped his mouth shut and let his head fall back. He closed his eyes against the panic making his heart beat like a runaway steam engine. He wouldn’t tell her. He wouldn’t.
She freed the button on his jeans and shoved them and his underwear down over his hips. His cock sprang free of its restraints, and he breathed a sigh of relief. She took his cock in her cold hand and slid the plastic tube over it. The bottom edge pressed tight against his pubic bone. Oh God! She was going to do it. She was going to pump the come out of him. Air swished and whirred as she worked the bulb at the end of the tube, creating a vacuum, sucking his cock with every squeeze of her fist on the little ball. Ah, shit! It hurt like a son-of-a-gun!
“Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll let you have relief in a much more pleasant way.”
Hud thought about the way her tight little pussy would feel. She’d be tight and wet and hot, and there wouldn’t be a damned thing painful about it. He wanted her. God, he wanted her, not some godforsaken plastic torture device.
“My mother. My mother gave me the name.”
“Stop the fuck torturing me, and I’ll tell you.”
“Tell me, and I’ll stop.”
“She had a one night stand. She didn’t know the guy’s name. He left his watch behind in the cheap motel. Elgin was the brand name on the watch.”
As soon as the last word left his lips, Mary Beth broke the vacuum and slid the pump off his cock. Sweat poured down his face and stung his eyes, or maybe they were tears, he didn’t know for sure. He wanted to slump, but he had to maintain his posture or his shoulders and arms would pay the price.
“I know. I’m going to let you come now, Elgin.”
“Don’t call me that!”
“It’s your name. It’s a part of you. I understand it’s a part you wish you could change, but changing your name won’t change what your mother was, will it?”
“Fuck, no, but that doesn’t mean I have to be reminded of it every goddamned day.”
Mary Beth tucked the penis pump back into her bag of torture and came up with a rubber pussy, the kind lonely men use to get themselves off with. “God, no. Mary Beth, Mistress, let me down from here so I can make you feel good too.”
“Not yet, Elgin. You still don’t trust me with all your secrets, and until you do, you aren’t going to touch me, not at all. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mistress, I understand.”
“Good, then let me help you.” Like he had any choice. She slid the rubber sleeve over his cock. He realized she must have planned this because she’d already
lubricated the inside of the sleeve. It slid easily over his cock. It was tight and wet, and nothing like the real thing.
Mary Beth worked the sleeve along his cock. He bucked his hips with every down stroke, despite the way his shoulders screamed in protest. He couldn’t help it. He had to move.
“That’s it, Elgin. Come for me. Show me you trust me to take care of you. You know I’ll take care of you, Elgin. I’ll always see that you have what you need. You need to come now, don’t you?” She kept up a litany in her soft voice. “I’m going to let you come now, Elgin. When I tell you to, I want you to come.”
“Oh, God, Mistress…”