I’m so glad to be here and a part of this wonderful group of sexy writers! To help us get to know each other, I thought I might post an interview with myself. Kind of vain, I know, but I’ll be interviewing other authors here so I thought this was fair.
Here are a few questions about things I always want to know from my favorite authors whenever I get a chance to speak with them. If you have a different question, pop it into the comments and I will try to answer!
How long have you been writing?
It seems as though I have always been writing. I used to love creative writing in school, even writing papers for my two sisters who seemed to be more interested in math. I’ve been writing romance for 9 years, but you have to throw about 3 of them out during the time I was getting marriage therapy/separation/divorce. You can’t write romance or erotica when all you really want to write about is murder and mayhem.
Have you always written erotic romance?
No, actually I began writing paranormal romance about eight years ago, but as time went on the romances in my stories became hotter until I found myself on the edge of erotic romance. Then I said heck, why not? And jumped right in. But it has always been paranormal and sci-fi that interested me because the genres’ opened up such a wealth of possibilities.
Do you ever find your characters surprising you?
Yes, occasionally. And when that happens I sit down and read everything I have written so far and see if the changes are what the characters really want or if I simply had too much coffee that day. If it turns out that the characters are demanding a plot change, well, I am an accommodating woman.
How do you come up with a physical description for your characters?
It all depends. Obviously I write about features that attract me – tall men, strong hands, bright eyes, and other things. But for my non-human characters there are important considerations. Since I write romance these characters have to be compatible to humans – bipedal at least, LOL. And they still have to be attractive. For Alien Revealed there had to be enough to show that the Inarrii were very different from humans. Exotic certainly, but in a sensual way. Other differences are internal, including strong psychic abilities.
So tell us a little bit about who Lilly Cain is when she’s not writing.
When I am not writing, I spend my time with my family—I have two daughters. I am a single mom, so I work hard writing and more recently, freelance editing. When playtime rolls around I like to relax by a campfire, roast marshmallows and sip vodka loaded lemonade, LOL. I have a cat; she’s evil but her nefarious deeds have slowed down to trying to sleep on my laptop and attack my toes when they are under the covers more than anything else.
What are you writing now?
I am working on a science fiction series under another name, Anne Rose, because it won’t be erotic. But as Lilly I am working on a HOT fireman novella, Slow Burn. Here’s a clip for you:
Cindy dropped down on the couch and sighed dramatically. She threw one arm over her eyes and let out a low moan of discontent. No one moved. She lifted her arm off her eyes. Both her cat, Smokey, and her colorful parrot, Blaze, had their backs turned to her and didn’t shift when she let loose another pitiful sigh.
“Jeez, you guys. You could have a little pity for a gal.” She shifted on the coach and lifted her feet to the coffee table. The movement stirred the air and brought a whiff of smoke to her nose.
“Yuck. I see why you guys are avoiding me. I reek of Gary’s final moments.” She climbed up from the couch and headed for the shower. It wasn’t her fault that Gary’s sooty smell clung to her. She’d gotten rid of him the way her momma had taught her, with a firm goodbye and a lit match against anything that reminded her of him.
Cindy dropped her clothes in the hamper and pushed the hot water tap to max. She refused to climb into a cold shower. She needed some heat in her life right now. Gary had been one cold fish. As far as she could tell, the man didn’t even like sex. He certainly didn’t like to be touched. Behavior like that didn’t make for a long relationship with her—she hadn’t learned that from her momma, not directly, but she bet there’d be no argument about it. He hadn’t lasted long and he hadn’t meant that much to her, but the ritual of burning anything that reminded her of him still felt cleansing.
Steam rolled out of the shower and along the ceiling. Perfect. She climbed into the stall and leaned into the cascade of hot water. She sighed and relaxed, dismissing thoughts of Gary. She definitely needed a hotter man. Like the gorgeous fireman inspector, Jared, that had come calling a few months ago, first over a little smoke from the balcony and the pictures she’d been burning there. Then he’d come by again a few weeks later, complaining about the wee fire she’d set to get rid of the pictures and the horrible silk flowers that remained from her relationship with Dave, another dud.
Who knew burning silk flowers could cause such a stink? She’d been more careful this time, burning Gary’s junk in the campground. Of course if she’d lit it up in the apartment again, maybe the sexy fire guy, Jared, would have come back. She rubbed some suds over her breasts, feeling her nipples tighten as she pictured him back in her little studio apartment. He’d looked damn good in her room, with his broad shoulders and big hands. After all, the bed was right there.
Tall, with a layer of muscle across his chest that made her mouth water and brown eyes that warmed her right up, he was a little older than the guys she usually dated. It looked good on him though, like he knew exactly what he was doing. Maybe that was what was wrong with the last few men she’d been with. They didn’t have the experience she needed. She stroked her nipples harder and reached for the handheld shower head. Inspector Jared, he had an air of command she could appreciate.
Cindy lifted one leg and braced it on the edge of the tub. The few times she’d met with the inspector, he’d set a little fire inside her, burning low in her belly. Even the last time she’d seen him—they’d argued and he’d leaning in close, close enough to kiss her. She’d expected him to. She’d wanted him to. She fiddled with the shower controls. The shower head had a pulse selection that was perfect for a day like this, when she had a little time free to daydream. A flick of the controls and she had a massage setting that would take her fantasy to a whole new level.
If whoever was at her damn door would stop ringing the stupid bell.
Thanks for stopping in, and I hope to hear more from everyone soon!