Please tell me a little bit about your latest release!

DEVIL’S KISS is the first book in my new Hellraisers paranormal historical series.  Here’s the elevator pitch: Five London rakes inadvertently free the Devil from his prison and wind up literally raising Hell.  Each of the Hellraisers is given a specific magical power, giving them the means to gain their darkest desires.  Too beguiled by the prospect, none of the men realize the cost of their gifts.  A few extraordinary women fight not only for the Hellraisers’ souls, but their hearts, as well.  Can the men be saved?  And will their efforts be enough to stop Hell on earth?

I’ve been writing basically my whole life.  Almost right after I learned to read, I started writing.  So I can’t say that anything drew me to it, I just did it!  I like writing stories with strong, extraordinary women, usually in situations where they’re facing steep odds, and giving them a man who can appreciate and value their uniqueness.

When he was in Venice on his Grand Tour, Whit played hazard with Casanova.  Whit thought Casanova was too easily distracted by the women in the salon, and Casanova thought Whit was paying attention to the wrong things.  Whit beat Casanova handily.

I’m a full-time writer, so basically I get up in the morning, have some coffee, and then get to work!

Yep!  I do listen to a lot of ’80s music when I write—mostly New Romantic stuff, because it evokes a lot of my youthful romanticism.  But depending on the scene, the music changes.  Techno for fight scenes, Celtic for really tender scenes, and a lot of indie/alternative music (St. Vincent, Kasabian, Darker My Love, the Shins, Mumford & Sons) for the rest.

One day, the phone rang.  On the other end of the line was Adam Ant.  He asked me to write a book about 18th century rakes, and if I didn’t, he’d call me a Goody Two Shoes.  So I complied.  Thus, the Hellraisers were born.

Rapidfire:

chocolate or vanilla 
-If it’s ice cream, vanilla.

left or right
-right

up or down
-down

in or out
-out

Kirk or Picard
-Picard

Kirk or Spock
-Spock

Trek or Wars
-Trek

lake or ocean
-ocean

forest or mountains
-forest

One is white, one is red, and one is blue.  Behind the white is a big, comfy bed.  Behind the red is a gladiatorial arena.  Behind the blue is the open sky.  I pick blue.

I asked Mat to stop by and share his work with all you lovely people…so please, welcome Mathew Gill.

Please tell us a little bit about yourself — how long you’ve been writing, what else you do, etc.

I love books. Really, it’s the escape that a well written book provides; that surreal ability to see and smell and hear and experience a world that is not my own is intoxicating. I lost myself in Robert E. Howard and Edgar Rice Burroughs and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle at an early age and never looked back. The writing side followed soon after. You may laugh, but it was Harriet the Spy that started me writing. I was enthralled by the idea of capturing my thoughts in secret black notebooks, creating my own realities and side stories. And so in about fifth grade, I spent thirty-five cents on a notebook and started jotting ideas and thoughts and dreams. It was exciting. I’ve been writing ever since in any number of forms and genres. My writing grew more structured and nuanced as I grew up and was exposed to more of life and the world. I dabbled in poetry (don’t tell anyone) and short stories. I tried my hand at essay (a near Greek tragedy, that one). I’ve even played in the realms of sci-fi and fantasy, two of my favorite reading genres. With everything I’ve done, I still look back to my early love of reading and those first words scribbled in that notebook and say that was when it all started. And I smile.

You write political thrillers — tell us how you decided to tell those kind of stories.

It’s not that I decided to tell those kind of stories. That was the story that happened to be the most mature and compelling to write at that time. I am now working on a series based on the M. Mason Montrose character, so there will be more of those coming, but I am also working on a couple of other projects in the Fantasy genre.

I am influenced by stuff I see in the news and read in the paper and in magazines, which is why Malice Aforethought was more political in nature. The manuscript I am finishing is also along some of those lines as well. I will openly admit that current events, personal stories, and imaginative “what-ifs” are powerful things that draw my attention. The story develops from there. Right now it seems to travel that political path.

What sort of research do you do for your writing?

I don’t do tons of research. Tom Clancy I am not. I try very hard to stick to story, to maintain pace. I shudder at the thought of burying my readers in dense technical detail. That said, I do commit to researching important plot pieces that can/will influence the story. Depending on what the aspect is I will read about it online or at the library, try to do it myself, or speak to an expert in the given field. The more difficult aspect for me is trying to incorporate my crappy notes into meaningful story information.

Tell us about a typical writing day (or a typical day, in general!)

Most of my writing takes place at night, after the babies have hit the sheets. I start working at about nine o’clock and can write for anywhere from an hour to three or four hours depending on how completely lost in the work I get. I generally try for at least an hour of uninterrupted work.

In the initial days of a given project, I work with my laptop and a notebook. I will write notes throughout the day. At night, I will just write, trying to spew the story onto the page. Along the way I will add questions, thoughts, etc to the notebook. As the story shapes up, I will print the manuscript and pen and ink the heck out of it. I raid the notebook for ideas and details, I look for continuity and flow and pacing. Do I have the right characters? Is the plot working? What are the obvious things I missed? This may double or triple the size of the manuscript.

This is where I am now, editing and refining. So I sit in the basement or at the counter in the kitchen with a printout of the manuscript, a pen, and my laptop either scribbling or clicking away into the wee hours of the morning.

Who are your literary influences?

I’m kind of a mutt in this area. It’s incongruent. I am so all over the place in this area. There are so many writers that I like and who lend me thought provoking pause as I read them. It’s almost not fair to make a list. But here is it:

I like the pacing of James Patterson.

I like the description and dialogue of Stephen King.

I like the storytelling of Robert E. Howard.

I like the dialogue and sarcasm and wit of Quentin Tarantino.

I like the creativity of R.A. Salvatore.

What’s your “Must Have” thing for writing — certain music, a special cup of coffee, a specific desk or room in the house, etc.

If I was going to identify one thing, I would say that I need, gotta have, a Pilot G-2 .05 black gel ink pen for writing and editing. It’s pretty much the only thing I use. Other than that, I’m pretty flexible. I just need a place to work and to be left to my own devices.

What should my readers know about you and your books?

I like story-telling and character development. I like a fast pace and events that drive the story forward. I try to bring all of that to my writing, giving readers a quick, solid read that entertains and, hopefully, feeds their need for escape.

and…add anything else you’d like them to know!

I’m a hell of a guy.

My website is mathewleegill.squarespace.com. You can find out where I am and what I’ve got going on as well as what I have on my bookshelf. Hope to see you there.

So, everyone, check out Mat and his books!

He’s a hell of a guy.

M

You can find out more from her website, here.

Go check it out!

(Book One in the Stone of Destiny series.)

Combine a magic sapphire, a witch and a stubborn hero and you get double trouble.

As a healer, Selena welcomes all to her home. Then two strangers show up on her doorstep, one badly injured, but it is the other who draws her notice. Did her mother’s last act of enchanting a beautiful sapphire bring this handsome man of her desires to her?

Tristan had been against the journey with his godfather, Jacob, but apromise is a promise. An attack by outlaws sealed his fate. Injured and on the run, they come upon a secluded cabin and a beautiful woman.
When she displays powers unlike any he’s ever seen, he is certain he’s been bewitched. Yet for some reason, he doesn’t mind as much as he thought he would.

When treachery uses Selena’s compassionate nature against her, can the two heartmates overcome vast odds to fulfill the future promised to them by the Stone of Destiny?

Content Warning: Contains graphic scenes of m/f sexuality.

Sequel: The Chosen (Book Two in the Stone of Destiny series)

Excerpt (over 18)
Adult Excerpt

When destiny takes over, can it overcome distrust to join two heartmates?

He crossed the space in two long strides and grabbed her, pulling her
up to him. His mouth lowered in a brutal kiss. She didn’t resist,
didn’t do anything. He needed to accept her. He pushed her away and
she fell back onto the pillows, watching him, waiting to see what he
would do next. He just stood there in all his naked magnificence.

“Enough of this,” she said. She rose, grabbed his shoulders and kissed
him, feeling his resistance. So she moved lower, flicking her tongue
over his nipples. They hardened into nubs and she knew he felt
something. So she trailed a line of kisses down his torso. His staff
jumped to attention and she obliged by licking the tip.

His hands caught her hair, but rather than yanking her up in pain, he
lifted her, gently to face him. “Have you cast a spell over me?”

“No more than you have over me.” She wrapped her arms and legs around
him. Tristan turned and sat on the bed with her in his lap, his rod
held firmly between them. He pushed her back so he could reach her
breasts. He took first one, then the other in his mouth, pulling and
sucking. She leaned back, offering herself to him, opening to him. His
teeth nipped at one nipple and a shock of pain ran through her.

She pushed him away and scrambled off his lap, moving away from him.
He followed, a sly smile on his lips. She backed away until she felt
the wall at her back. He captured her there, an arm on either side of
her. She felt no fear, only thrill. He leaned over to kiss her and she
raked her nails down his back. The shock showed in the way his eyes
widened. He grabbed her and flipped her around so she faced the wall.
He held her there with one arm while his hand reached between her
legs, finding her clit. He rubbed and pinched as she writhed. Pleasure
overrode the tiny bit of pain. Almost of their own accord, her legs
spread wider, giving him access, and he took advantage, spearing her
with his staff.

She screamed as he rammed into her, the passionate sensations breaking
over her. There was nothing soft about his lovemaking. Nothing gentle.
Yet, she still felt no fear. This was lust at its most basic. Its most
primal. Her mind ceased to function as she let herself revel in the
feelings he created.

Learn more about Victoria here: http://writervictoria.wordpress.com

And buy the book here: http://www.captivapress.com

Hi Megan. My name is Susan Gourley and my daddy isn’t rich and isn’t that a line from a country song? Country? You?  The things we don’t know about our friends!

Please tell us a little bit about your latest release!

Beyond the Gate is book #2 in The Futhark Chronicles.  It continues the saga where The Keepers of Sulbreth ended.  Actually the first scene is only moments after the last scene in Keepers.  Our intrepid hero and heroine, Cage and Sabelline, journey into the cavern to reset the magical seals keeping the demons from over-running Futhark.  But nothing goes as planned and they have to find their way home through unexplored lands where Cage will learn more than he wanted to know about his origins and Sabelline will have her faith in the cause she dedicated her life to shaken and nearly broken.

Why fantasy?

I fell in love with fantasy reading A Wrinkle in Time in elementary school and later I read The Hobbit.  After that there was no turning back from fantasy taking over as my first love in reading.  Creating unique worlds and inventing magic to manipulate the physical realm and the lives of men is so fun.

Tell us about a typical writing day.

I teach school during the day.  Often I write my blog posts during my lunch hour.  When it comes to working on my novels I usually get to sit down at the keyboard after six in the evening and write until ten or eleven at night.  Most weekends I fit in a few more hours.

You stand in front of three doors. What colors are they, what’s behind each, and which do you choose (and why?)

Yellow door- behind it is sunshine

Blue door-behind it is wide open cloudless blue skies

Green door-behind it is a fine green lawn that a hired landscaper mows instead of me.

And I would pick anyone of those fracking doors to escape a Pennsylvania gloomy, cold overcast winter. I hate the cold and damp.

Rapid fire portion:

chocolate or vanilla  chocolate

front or back  back

left or right  always right

Spock or Kirk  KIRK!

Wars or Trek   Trek

up or down up

beach or lake  beach, baby

in or out  out

rock or roll  roll

Where can we find out more about you and your books?

Visit me at my blog:

Susan Says

May the 4th be with you!

Also, check me out at Carina Press’s blog today…there are giveaways to be had!

Scene:

A plow had cleared Wells Street perhaps an hour ago, but the sidewalks were thick with untouched snow. They walked on the side of the street, because there wasn’t a car in sight. The ”L” tracks over their head and the high-rises gave them a small measure of protection against the swirling, stinging snow for the first part of their trip, but north of the loop they were more fully exposed.

They finally turned right from Dearborn Avenue onto Oak Street. Sean grabbed her hand to keep her steady as the brutal Lake Michigan wind cut through her wool coat as though it were made of tissue paper. The wind came off the lake at Oak Street Beach and zoomed between the buildings, creating one of the most unpleasant wind tunnels in the city.

While shoppers patronized Michigan Avenue for the more famous stores, the block on Oak Street between Michigan and Rush was prized for smaller, high-end fashion boutiques. When Genevieve’s father had passed away, she discovered that he’d named both her and her mother as the beneficiaries on his modest life insurance policy. Genevieve had used it as start-up money for her business.

She’d wanted to succeed in her own right, but part of what had propelled her manic hard work in those early days was the desire to show her father she’d made good on his legacy. She’d burned to make his life worthwhile . . . to make the ghost of him that resided in her brain proud.

She noticed as they plodded along the snow-laden street, their shoulders to the wind, that very few shops were open. She shivered and squinted at Sean. Snowflakes clung to his eyebrows and whiskered jaw. His dark blond hair had been streaked with white. He looked resigned to his frozen discomfort.

“Whose idea was this, anyway?” she asked.

He threw her a dry glance. “Had to have been some crazy girl from Gary, Indiana. Boys from N’ Orleans are too fragile to go out in a blizzard.”

Keeping up with Sean’s long legs in the thick snow had got her heart pumping. She snorted between pants. “Fragile, my ass.”

“Too smart then,” Sean added with a rakish grin that told Genny she’d been forgiven for her foolishness.

Explanation:

The reason this is one of my favorite scenes in RELEASE is a very personal one. It gives me some satisfaction to know that I’ve had life experiences that can give me accurate information for a scene. I’ve lived in downtown Chicago for more years than I care to admit, and the little details in this bit sort of highlight some of my true-to-life-experience in the city. I’ve endured several blizzards and can attest to the fact that a bad snowstorm in an urban environment is a unique experience.

I lived on Oak Street for years. Once, when walking around the corner from Michigan Avenue to Oak, the winter wind coming off the lake/beach area made me stumble and slide on ice—completely out of control—for about ten feet and come very close to being thrown on the pavement before I finally righted myself. I must have looked hysterical. I’ve never experienced wind tunneling down a street like I have on Oak.

It’s little stuff, and most people wouldn’t be aware of whether it’s accurate or not, so I suppose there’s a good argument that it doesn’t matter much. For my own part, though, it really does give me a smile when I write something and I know for a fact there are only a handful of people who would know those little details.

******

Find out more from Beth at her website.

M