When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer?
I first wanted to become a writer when I was a teenager (another
lifetime). I loved reading mysteries and love stories and thought it
would be nice to try my hand at writing but it never took off back
What drew you to write Non-Fiction and Fiction? Do you
prefer one over the other?
I've written both non-fiction and fiction but I felt that I had more
leeway or creative license if I wrote fiction. Both entail a lot of
research – my paranormal stories have a mix of history in them –
but with non-fiction, I cannot bend the facts to my liking or there
will be a lot of academics breathing down my throat! ;)
Of all your characters, who’s your favorite, and why?
I think right now, my favorite character is Deanna Logan from Forever at Midnight. Her resilience after what she had to go through and the sacrifice she was willing to make is something I'd probably balk under. But she was able to carry on despite the hurt and trauma. That’s something I find admirable.
What about your books? Do you have a favorite? What about it
do you love?
I think Love in Her Dreams would be a favorite because it was
what started it all. Also because I’d like to believe that if you look
hard enough, the man you’re destined to be with is just around the
corner. What can I say? I’m a romantic at heart. J
What would you love to write someday but haven’t yet?
A Pulitzer Prize winning novel.
Were books a big part of your life growing up? If so, what books
would you say influenced you most as a child?
Oh yes, they were. There were no computers then. I lived in the province and television shows from the city were a week delayed. The more interesting T.V. shows started at 6pm during the weekend I had a lot of time to read. I read encyclopedias, the speeches of American orators like Patrick Henry, Edith Hamilton’s Greek Mythology to name a few. I loved Greek Mythology. I still do. I had this book called A Pocket Book of Verse which two of my favourite poems, The Psalm of Life and The Children’s Hour by Longfellow. This book of poems and Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet influenced me the most. They still do.
What are two things people might be surprised to know about
I can speak three other language apart from English and I’ve learned to write in a little known ancient script which is at least a thousand years old.
When you’re not writing, what do you enjoy doing?
I enjoy reading the works of other authors I admire, walk in the park nearby, watch telly, do a little window shopping.
Three things always found in your refrigerator:
Cheese, Bacon, Milk
Writing is often a sedentary profession. Is there anything you
do to beat stress and keep in shape?
I try to fit a bit of yoga occasionally. I used to swim everyday but not anymore.
You’re in line at Starbucks. What are you ordering?
If it's Spring: It's Chai Latte or the semi-skimmed Latte
If it's Summer: It's Raspberry Blackcurrant Blended Juice Drink
If it's Autumn: It's the Pumpkin Spiced Latte
If it's Winter: It's the Toffee Nut Latte
Anything else you’d like to share?
Thank you, Gray, for having me guest in you blog. You’re one of the authors I truly admire and follow. Looking forward to reading more of your books! Love, Isobelle
Forever at Midnight –The Cynn Cruor Bloodline, Book 2
Will their pursuit of Dac lead to another chance at happiness?
Soon, Roarke ended the kiss. Deanna gloried at the pleasure she felt when gold flecks materialized against his pupils. She touched the sides of his eyes.
“I missed seeing those,” she whispered before cupping his face. He turned to kiss her palm. She sighed. “If only for tonight, make love to me again, Roarke. Make love to me so I can forget.”
She saw emotion flit through his eyes before it was gone. Her heart was in her throat, afraid he would refuse. Then his head bent down.
He kissed her again, but this time it was soft and tender, even while his hand was wreaking havoc with her body. Her clit throbbed when he rolled her hardened nipples with his thumb and forefinger before palming her globes lovingly. She closed her eyes, giving in to the moment, her breath coming out in moans and gasps. Then her mouth opened in a silent cry, feeling his tongue flick and suck on her breasts again. She lost all coherent thought, holding on to his shoulders. Lust thundered through her, lighting her up like a fireball.
Roarke scooped her up and walked through the French doors and into the warmth of the loft. With her face against his neck, she inhaled deeply before flicking her tongue and sucking on the pulse at the base of his throat.
“Where?” he growled, his desire unsuppressed.
Mutely, Deanna pointed to the stairs which led to her bedroom. Instead of using the stairs, Roarke catapulted them to the open room's landing with one jump.
There wouldn't be any recriminations tonight. This moment would be for knowing each other's bodies again. To make up for all the lost time.
Secret Cravings Publishing: http://bit.ly/15zacRg
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/18wDtOY
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/15cFFKe
Thanks again for being my guest this week, Isobelle!
Until next time, stay naughty my pets . . .