Welcome Tory to Kook's Nook.
Thanks for having me Kooky, its a pleasure to be here.
First is there a book
that sticks out in your mind, that you go back to time and time
again?
Oddly,
the first book in Elizabeth Hoyt’s Maiden Lane series (name escapes me right
now). Incredibly hot. <cough> Yeah, so sue me.
How do you like to
write? in the quiet or can you write amongst abject
chaos?
Cannot
write amidst a lot of chaos. I prefer music in the background, or TV. I need
noise of some sort, but not the kind that you get from two babies and a 5 y/o.
Heh.
Who is your
inspiration?
Is
it selfish to say I don’t really have one? I write because that’s what I love to
do. I’ve never been the sort to say, “Oh, look at ‘X’, I must now write about
it.” Maybe old role-playing games inspired me at times, but that’s about
it.
Who would you most
like to bring you your first drink of the morning?
I
should probably say my husband, right? Necessary and loving wifely duty aside,
if I could be sure I would emerge alive from it, I’d have to say Jordan. Yeah,
I’m hung up on my sociopath. If we’re talking about people who really exist,
probably David Boreanaz (Angel from the Buffy/Angel universe) or some other hot,
mostly naked man.
What do you tend to
snack on whilst writing (Im a foodie)
Pepperoni
and cheese. Don’t ask.
Do you have a
favourite recipe you could share with us?
Mexican
lasagna. Unfortunately, I’m not sure where the cookbook is and I’m not sure of
the exact recipe. I’m not the primary chef (thank God – I despise
cooking).
Could you give some advice to aspiring authors?
Don’t
give up, pay some attention to the market but only to a certain point.
Everything comes into vogue from time to time, and then goes right back out
again.
What advice do you
have if you get blocked?
Drink
prune juice? Oh, did you mean writer’s block? Hehehe, sorry, couldn’t resist.
Don’t do what I did (have babies). They’re awfully cute, but once they get out
of the sleeping lump phase, they’re awfully squirmy and demanding of attention.
I read, go back and reread what I’ve been working on and try to find out what
went wrong and then chop it out and build things back up. I had to chop over 100
pages of my upcoming release, Blood-Mage Rising, because I’d gone down the wrong
path. Later, I chopped another 40 pages because I’d done it again. While I will
never be an outliner/planner, I can see why that route might appeal to some
(including Super Editor).
A big question? How
do you like your heroes, hairy chested or smooth and
sleek?
Smooth
and sleek. If I wanted a bear, I’d go find a Kodiak (or a were-bear) cub and
cuddle with that. Blech, body hair on men is right up there with heavy-duty
veins in the arms and hands for major turn-offs.
Do you find it easy to
write love scenes?
Only
if you consider getting teeth pulled easy.
Is there a type of
romance you have always wanted to write?
Yup,
and I’ve written it (Blood Rage). Now I’m more into the urban fantasy side of
things, with a heavy dose of potential romance for the leads (Jordan/Chris in
Blood-Mage Rising and book 3, potentially titled In Dreams or Blood
Dreams).
What are your
favourite genres to read?
Regency
romance, paranormal romance, and suspense/thriller-esque books (think Douglas
Preston/Lincoln Childs).
How do you
relax?
I
swim or read a good book. I’m pretty boring.
Finally.....could you
share a teaser from your latest release please?
Hrmm,
from Rage?
1810 – Scotland
As he circled the clearing, staring down at the fire he
smelled from miles out, Anthony let out an inaudible snarl. He could see the
damnable leader of the pack calling themselves the Aristocrats off to one side
watching the blaze. The Bloody Baron himself, Jordan MacNaught.
To Anthony’s horror, a little girl lay unconscious at the
baron’s feet, a spot of blood marring the white flesh of her
neck.
Upon landing, he shifted from falcon to man and stalked
across the chilly clearing. He felt only the faintest stirring of life. He could
do nothing for the humans inside. He couldn’t retaliate either, not as long as
the other man limited his mischief to members not of the Blood. Neither Council
nor Circle cared when humans got hurt.
Reaching Jordan, he asked, “What the devil are you doing so
far north?”
“Enjoying a gorgeous, chilly night, old man. Lovely company,
delicious meal. I generally don’t find that this far north.” Jordan smiled at
Anthony, clearly gloating over the knowledge that he was untouchable. “Question
is, what brings you here? Don’t tell me, let me guess. Are you chasing
down the little whore? Do you regret letting her go?”
Anthony’s attention centered on the little girl, no more than
eight, lying in only a thin night-rail. He tentatively touched her mind, found
no sign the baron did more than snack on her. Thank the gods. The girl
bore little resemblance to Athdara, instead favoring the shared mother, the
courtesan L’Emeraude.
Assured the girl should survive the bite, he looked back to
Jordan, and he ground his teeth. Anger served no purpose in this discussion, so
he reined his in. “Hardly,” he said, and left it to Jordan to decide which
question the response fit. When it came to avoiding an outright lie, it all
depended on which question he chose to answer.
Anthony Caldwell, his current persona, carried one of
England’s oldest and most noble titles. He would never condescend to
chase a woman, no matter how much he enjoyed her. He did miss Athdara though,
even though she’d left him only two weeks ago. For the first in centuries, he’d
lain with the same woman exclusively for two years, and he still didn’t
understand why she left. They’d enjoyed each others’ company so
much.
“Your wife said you came this way. She wasn’t happy you left
without her.”
The shorter man smirked, holding his hands up as if to warm
them by the inferno. “The little dear could have come with me. Such bounty
should be shared. Would you care for some, Your Grace?”
His stomach curdled at the notion of taking blood from one so
young. Despicable. “Given you came in pursuit of a woman, are you
surprised she refused to join you?” Anthony waved toward the fire. “What was the
point of this?”
“Eliminating MacKechnie’s ties to this wretched wasteland,
naturally. With this as a lure,” Jordan nudged the little girl with the toe of
his boot, “She’ll come right back to London.” He moaned softly, as if in ecstasy
from whatever sick images he was conjuring.
Anthony almost flattened him right there, Inner Circle and
rules of propriety be damned. After two years of fantasizing about his
human, Jordan seemed to think her fair game now. And to involve a child? Given
her utter devotion to her younger siblings, Anthony harbored no doubt Athdara
would do whatever she had to to get Caila back. That devotion would only end in
death if she got caught up in MacNaught’s game.
“The nectar of the little ones was incredible, old man. Pity
there was so little.”
“You drained them? Burning wasn’t enough?” Anthony
might act as executioner for the Council and Circle as required, but he could
never, would never cross that line and kill a child.
“Waste them like that?” Jordan gasped in mock horror and
clapped a pale hand to his cheek. “Heavens, no! They were so ripe for the
plucking. Surely you’ve tried the young at least once? The fear, the agony. It’s
almost as exquisite as a woman’s final scream
You can contact Tory at these websites
Thanks for being here Tory, its been an absolute pleasure, and from all of us at the Nook, wishing you every success with your writing.
Ok, thats all there is for now. Keep viewing, as I am doing a round up of some really great romance books during this week.
Have fun, be safe, and above all.........KEEP IT KOOKY!!!!!!!!!!!!
