Thanks for having me over today. It’s always fun being with you.
Your past career as a travel agent gave you the opportunity to see lots of places around the world that you incorporate in your work, but why did you decide to incorporate all the sex?
I swear it was not a conscious effort. I’m a free speaker, probably too much most times, and a firm believer that sex and humor are healthy aspects of our everyday lives. Those little facets of me led to writing sexually explicit romances that fling open the bedroom door. Or whatever room my characters happen to be in at the moment. Please know that only once have I researched a sexual position and that really was a lifestyle. All the sensuality is from experience or imagination. I’ll let you guess which one of those two is the most used. lol
You mention your partner Studs from time to time and refer to him as your life mate. That said, what hot celebrity has potential to help you stray if the opportunity to spend a night with him came about?
Oh my, this will either get me in tons of trouble or a hot date, if I’m lucky. Lol
Nathan Fillion is a hot devil I could…mmm. Simon Baker has the greatest twinkling eyes… But, it has to be Liam Neeson. First saw him in High Spirits, a 1988 comedy fantasy movie with a cast of terrific actors, and I fell in love. I still think Liam Neeson is the sexiest man in movies.
Now if you’ll excuse me, Lizzie, I think I need to go off and drool somewhere. lol
Heicke Brewer enjoys his playboy image along with the collection of international beauties on his arm and in his bed. They are safer than another disastrous marriage. Until a chance encounter with a stubborn American pixie too hot not to handle threatens his hard won resolve.
Dammit. Her shoe caught, yet again, in the wet grass. The damned expensive things were being ruined with every step she took. She wiggled her ankle, only to sink further into the mud. The only option left was to take off the shoe. Gathering her skirt so it wouldn’t get soaked, she bent over.
A hand clamped over her mouth. Jack the Ripper, Charles Manson, and every bloodcurdling creature Stephen King ever wrote about had joined together to attack her. She’d never been so scared, even when she had lived in her old car and been dumb enough to park it overnight at a drug house.
“Shush Pixie. It is me, Heicke.” He wrapped his arms around her and she choked back a sob.
“Are you crazy?” Her heart pumped faster than a jet engine during takeoff. “You scared the living hell out of me.”