Hi All, I’ve decided to call my interviews with guest authors:
IN THE PADDED ROOM with LILY!
Anyone who knows me won’t need that title explained!
Unfortunately for Elyzabeth M. Valey she doesn’t know me that well yet…
Lily: Okay, let’s get the ball rolling with this interview with a deep incisive question…. One that will turn the world, as we know it, on its ear! Have you ever eaten a crayon?
Elyzabeth: Jeez, Lily, you really know how to go for the jugular! Hum, I don’t think so, no. However, I do chew on my pens. A lot.
Lily: LOL, the Earth is safe then! Now, I’m sure my fellow readers are as keen as I am to learn a little more about you, Elyzabeth, so tell us, what did you want to be when you grew up?
Elyzabeth: Before I was 8 I briefly considered being a judge. After 8, I decided I was going to be a journalist / writer.
Lily: Interesting. Now for some deceptively easy ones! Favorite color?
Lily: Hmm, the things I could read into that! Okay, next. With the weather: Hot or cold?
Lily: Okay, cold and black…. how I wish I was a psychiatrist! Hmm, favorite place to read?
Lily: Okay, cold and black and in bed…. hey, guys anyone else here getting a picture? Elyzabeth, you are one interesting woman! Okay, one more easy one. Favorite non-alcoholic drink.
Elyzabeth: Orange juice.
Lily: In bed? Sorry, just kidding!
Lily: Now for a change in gears…. How do you personally distinguish between pornography, erotica, and erotic romance?
Elyzabeth: *coughs* LOL, talk about throwing a curve ball! Let me see… I think pornogprahy is just sex for the sake of sex; erotica is sex with a plot; and erotic romance is sex with love. If you take away the sex from an erotic romance you still have a love story.
Lily: Well said! So what do you think are the biggest public misconceptions about erotic romance?
Elyzabeth: There are several, but I think one of the biggest misconceptions is that people think erotic romance readers (and authors) are all stupid women who don’t have the intelligence to read (or write) anything else, have nothing better to do and are unfulfilled sexually and emotionally.
Lily: Oh God, they couldn’t be more wrong! Just look at us! Well, you…. I’ve been known to have a blonde moment or two….
Lily: So moving on to some technical stuff! Do you ever suffer from writer’s block?
Elyzabeth: Oh, yes. I’ve suffered from writer’s block. Oh boy, have I suffered.
Lily: What do you do about it?
Elyzabeth: My solution has been to try to relax and do something different. Read, watch a movie, listen to music and stay away from the keyboard and pens for a few days. Eventually, the muse returns. *smiles*
Lily: When writing descriptions of your hero, what feature do you start with?
Elyzabeth: Oh, that’s easy. The eyes. Always the eyes. I have to fall in love with my heroes eyes, otherwise it won’t work for me.
Lily: Me too! Oh, and don’t tell anyone, but I have a hand fetish as well!
Elyzabeth: Your secret is safe with me!
Lily: Safe in the cold and black… *chuckles* Tell me, how do you do research for your books?
Elyzabeth: *laughs* Internet (Saint Google!), books, and museums! I have pictures of museum exhibitions and explanations that have come in handy at times.
Lily: Do you listen to music while writing?
Elyzabeth: Absolutely. Music is one of my greatest sources of inspiration. Most of my books have their own soundtrack.
Lily: That’s great to know. I’d love it if you put them on your blog so I can listen to it as I read your novel! So what kind of music are we likely to hear?
Elyzabeth: I will listen to anything (Spanish Diversion has a popular pop soundtrack, Blind Beauty has a pagan folk music soundtrack, A Dragon’s Heart, A Demon’s Blood has a gothic rock soundtrack), but metal music is my favourite.
Lily: Wow, so diverse. You must forward me some links!
Lily: Say your publisher has offered to fly you anywhere in the world to do research on an upcoming book, where would you most likely want to go?
Elyzabeth: Probably Scotland and/or Prague.
Lily: I’ll be in Scotland in late May, early June! I’ll send you some pics!
Lily: Okay, I‘ve saved this one for last. Please tell us one thing your readers would be surprised to learn about you.
Elyzabeth: Hum, I think my age. I’m 29 but people always think I’m much younger. I take after my mother, LOL
Lily: Ah good genes… Thank you so much for stopping by, Elyzabeth. It’s been a pleasure! I’m still trying to get straight in my head the cold and black in bed business, possibly with orange juice!
PLEASE TAKE THE TIME GUYS TO CHECK OUT ELYZABETH’S LATEST RELEASE: BLIND BEAUTY!
Blind Beauty (Witches’ Mischief Series 2) Promo Packet
James Macintosh is hours away from his new home. He is ready to start a secluded life away from all the rumors, insults and disgusted faces concerning his appearance. However, a meeting with a mysterious woman and her child, mingled with a sudden harsh snowstorm will set him down a very different path than the one he had originally envisioned.
Richard Randywine is an accidental fugitive living with a band of rowdy thieves. A good man at heart, he has gotten used to hiding his emotions behind his strapping muscles and brute strength. Yet, when the thieves ambush an unsuspecting rider, Richard is forced to drop his mask and step forward.
Will both men be able to see what lies before them or will they be blind to the possibility of happiness?
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He climbed atop his horse, as told. His back molded to Richard’s, his body betraying him as it molded into the other man’s embrace. Richard pulled him hard against him, his body enveloping him in an almost suffocating hug.
“Go,” he whispered huskily into his ear, his breath fanning it. James pressed his thighs against Faith’s flanks, hoping the animal would understand, considering the strange position she was in. She did, for she set off at a trot in the direction Richard indicated. They galloped in silence, trees whirring past them, snow flying when they swept past. James eyes widened and he barely controlled the urge to order Faith to stop as he realized their impasse.
“Richard, the hoof prints, the snow.” James pointed at the visible trail. “They’ll track us down as easily as the king’s hounds trace a fox.”
Richard’s breath was warm in his ear. His hair tickled his temple and James had to suppress a shiver.
“I know.” Richard chuckled. “Don’t worry. I have a plan, besides wishing that they’ll wake up during the night and we’ll be miles away by then or that it snows heavily again.”
James wished he didn’t have to worry, but he couldn’t relax. The problem wasn’t so much the thieves that could pursue them at any moment, but the man behind him. He was too close, too comforting, and all too desirable. James shifted in his seat again, trying to find a comfortable position. One in which he wasn’t pressed up tightly against Richard’s groin. One in which he didn’t imagine he felt the length of his cock hard against him. Because, he was convinced it was his imagination. Otherwise, how could a man like Richard be interested in him? It didn’t make any sense. In his experience, men like Richard were ladies’ men. They seduced, fucked and discarded women. He wasn’t a woman and he’d been rejected too many times in his life. He didn’t need this. He didn’t need more pain. Richard’s fingers brushed against his side, the fingers digging into his flesh and distracting him as arousal flared in every centimeter of his flesh.
“What got you into thievery?” he asked, attempting to forget how close their bodies were.
Richard grunted in reply and he fell silent once more, fishing his mind for a topic of conversation. It came up blank. He thought about asking Richard to stop. Faith was probably tiring though she didn’t show it and surely, they were safe by now. He should ask. James knew he should, but he couldn’t. He was losing his mind, falling prey to the liquid fire that was consuming him inside and outside. He wasn’t sure if the man was hard, but he was. His cock was stiff and throbbing, the idea of taking or being taken by Richard flashing through his mind every time Faith bounced.
What would it feel like?
Flesh both silky and hard as steel brushing against him, an intimate caress, deep and longing. They’d become one man, writhing, gasping, and moaning. James’ breath hitched, the tightness in his breeches becoming uncomfortable. He clenched his teeth together and grasped the reins so tightly the material cut into his hands. He scrambled to regain his bearings, to remember whom he was with and what had occurred in the last 48 hours. He couldn’t trust Richard, but neither could he trust his treacherous body. He was not a beautiful man. Surely the thief didn’t want him. The thief. That’s right, Richard was a thief. He had no morals, no scruples, no—James groaned as Faith skipped over a fallen log, throwing Richard’s body against him, the erection he was sure he was imagining grinding against his bottom.
Defined as weird since she was about eight, Elyzabeth honors the title by making up songs about her chores, doodling stars and flowers on any blank sheet of paper and talking to her dog whenever he feigns interest.
Losing the battle to the voices in her head is her favorite pastime after annoying her younger sister with her singing. Writing stories full of passion and emotion where love conquers all is her happy pill and she’ll forgo sleep to make her readers live the dream.
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