Cara, are you a plotter or a pantser, or a hybrid?
I’m a plotter. How intensive that plotter mentality is depends on the project. I have incredibly convoluted spreadsheets and story boards that would send a pantser into a sanitarium. I tend to trust my mind to keep things straight for smaller projects though.
What item, or items, is absolutely necessary to your writing mojo?
The notebook where I scrawl all the critical details is essential—or the spreadsheet bible that has all that info. Aside from that, all I need is a keyboard, some time and caffeine.
Do you have any rituals for writing or special locations that you prefer to inhabit when you’re writing?
Rituals? *covers sacrificial altar* No, none at all.
*sighs* Okay, I’m a smidge OCD so I use the same font when I write. My eyes can’t keep up with anything other than Book Antiqua as a type. If I write too late in the evenings I tend to take the world I’m working in to bed with me. (Go ahead, I hear the jokes coming on that one.)
I tend to write early in the mornings in my office, or in the afternoons on my laptop. I always, always edit at my desk with no music, no distractions. I must have my Synonym Finder, dictionary and series bible with me because I’d rather crawl through broken glass than irritate my editors with inconsistencies I could’ve found had I been more careful.
Right now, what items are on your desk that you’d be embarrassed to admit to?
*covers Pinky the Slinky* What? No, no. That’s not a slinky. I swear. It’s a very confused paperclip.
When I’m deep in thought or confused on something—which sadly happens A LOT—I have to be doing something with my hands. (Okay, I know. I can hear certain people reading this cackling right now.) So I have stupid handsy stuff on my desk to occupy my compulsive need to distract my brain with something random and mundane.
Do you listen to music when you write? If so, what type(s) do you lean towards?
Yes, I always have a few tracks that resonate the tone or overall vibe I want to project within the book. I tend to go toward the darker, edgier music for paranormals and more sensual works for my erotic contemporaries.
Right now I’m on an Evanescence kick.
What are you currently working on, or what’s on the horizon?
*narrows eyes* Who told you to ask that? LOL…I shamefully have way too many coals on the fire and sometimes feel as though I can’t get anything finished. I have two different paranormal works, an erotic futuristic and two erotic contemporaries. Those are the ones I’ll confess to.:)
I tend to get easily distracted with plot bunnies as they go scampering through my head. So I pause what I’m working on to “scrawl” the idea down and three chapters later…Well, I think you can get the picture.
They all get done eventually. It’s just a battle for my attention until the end.
I can tell you the 5th Pleasure Brigade is in there at the top of the heap. And a turbo hot futuristic that I’m really enjoying a lot.
Wine or beer? Beer
Beach or mountains? Mountains
Summer or Fall? Fall
How about an excerpt from Weekend Menage:
“I love how sexy your hard nipples look in this nightie,” Joe whispered. “I can’t wait to take one into my mouth and clench it between my teeth until you beg me to stop.”
Her knees buckled, pushing the finger buried in her a little deeper. She thrust forward, into Dillan’s hand. The two men groaned at her acquiescence.
Pleasure streamed from the slow rhythm Dillan set with his digit. Joe cupped her breasts and squeezed. Gratitude consumed her that the men remained silent, allowing her to slip into the spiraling ecstasy traveling her body. Focus gravitated toward Dillan’s ministrations when he added a second finger to the rhythmic pace, drilling her toward an orgasm.
Joe pinched her nipples, then ran his hands down her sides to her thighs. She shivered at the touch and wished the material weren’t separating them. Even though it was thin, it felt thick and heavy on her sensitized skin.
Then he lifted her. She gasped in shock, her eyes opening. Dillan grinned when her thighs were pulled wider apart and she was left dangling in Joe’s strong embrace. Deft fingers fucked, then rubbed her clit—drawing every stroke out with deliberate attentiveness.
Rebecca clung to each burst of pleasure, but Dillan pulled her from the edge each time she came close. “Please.”
The momentum ceased. Piercing blue so dark it’d become black captured her attention. She sighed against Dillan’s mouth when he leaned in and captured her lower lip. He suckled long enough to create a second inferno of need deep within her.
“I’m going to explode.”
Joe chuckled. “That’s the point.”
Dillan lifted her from Joe’s embrace and carried her into the bedroom. She settled into the comforter and looked up at the two men. Her skin heated under their perusal, but neither made a move to remove the thin negligee. Unsure what to do, she closed her eyes and drew her hands above her head.
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