The lovely and uber-talented Fiona Jayde interviewed me for Total Exposure on my release day, and I wanted to share the interview here as well. Enjoy!

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Lacey - congratulations on your new release!

Thanks, Fi! As you know, I had a blast writing this story.

Stray Urges is a terrific story and I’m excited to get you in the hot seat for your release day interview.

Aww… thank you! I’m delighted to be interviewed by you!

1. I know this particular story was very different for you - what can you tell us about the behind the scene stuff for Stray Urges?

Well, as I mentioned briefly yesterday, 1st person narrative has always been my favorite. There’s something so visceral and raw about it (when done well). It’s like literally stepping into someone else’s shoes and feeling what they feel, experiencing what they experience… which–let’s face it–with erotic writing, is a pretty good thing.

Despite naturally gravitating toward first person reads my entire life, I shied away from writing them. I had been told, time and time again, that first person doesn’t sell. Apparently readers don’t want it, aren’t comfortable with it, and won’t buy it. For a long time, I took that advice to heart.

For the past few years, I’ve been wrestling with a serious creative crisis. I feared I’d lost the passion that used to drive me to write, and I started wandering outside my comfort zone. That’s how STRAY URGES came about. I “heard” the heroine’s voice in my head saying that first line. “There’s only one thing worse than feeling like a bitch in heat, and that’s looking like one. And getting hit by a truck. Okay, make that two things.” So I wrote it down… and then the next line came to me, and the next, and the one after that. I wrote the entire story in about 3 days. It’s fairly short, mind you, but that productivity level, and the elation I felt while writing it, stunned me.

2. Was there something specific that sparked the idea for you or was it a gradual “discovery”?

It was a discovery process all the way! Well… no, that’s not entirely true. I pitched the story to my editor in a short paragraph a few months before I wrote it. It was very vague at that point — just enough to get me a spot on the release schedule. I knew my heroine had amnesia, and that she needed someone from her past to show her what Christmas really means… but beyond that, I had nothing.

In the end, I was thrilled with the way it came together. All the pieces just seemed to fit as I wrote: her motivation, her conflict, her background… everything was there, waiting for me to discover it.

3. I loved how you weaved the Christmas fantasy into the story! What are some of your holiday traditions? (p.s for Total Exers - the Christmas fantasy in Stray Urges was complete with naughty elves!!)

Thanks! I was on a business trip in Toronto early last month, and the major department stores had already set up their Christmas window displays. They’re not quite as large and elaborate as the ones in New York, but I found myself gawking at the detail work in each. Okay, so there were no frolicking elves in the windows… but that’s why it’s called creative license, right? *g*

As for me, I’m not big on holiday traditions. My husband and I don’t exchange gifts, we don’t decorate the house, and we don’t put up a tree. I take some time off at Christmas every year, and then we go to Mexico in early January. I’m not sure either of those count as Christmas traditions, but there you have it!

4. Does Lacey’s “real world” interact with Lacey’s “writing” world? Do they interweave? Can you look at a piece of writing and say “oh yeah, this is what was happening in my life when I wrote this?” (Hey - its better then asking where you get your ideas lol)

Umm… nope. LOL Lacey’s inner world is a chaotic mess at the best of times. I’ve noticed my writing style changing over the past few years as I’ve struggled through one creative block after the next, but in terms of plot and character, I can’t say I’ve ever been able to point to a story and say, “Oh, this came about because I was doing XYZ at the time.”

5. What can your readers look forward from you in the upcoming year?

Ha! I wish I knew!

Okay… in the short term, my alter ego, Hunter Raines, has a scorching M/M paranormal with a Christmas theme coming out… next week (yay!) from Loose Id, titled SILVER BELLS. And in January, Hunter’s got another short M/M paranormal, titled BEYOND BOUNDARIES. That’s slotted for the beginning of the month.

After that, your guess is as good as mine.

Thanks Lace - and again, congratulations!

Thanks so much for the wonderful interview, Fi! The questions were terrific, and really made me think.

I’m one of those authors who thrives on pressure. Unlike many, I like deadlines. They motivate me to work and get words down, no matter how much I might want to avoid writing on a particular day. But deadlines only work for me when they’re imposed by someone else — someone with authority. Like an editor.

I’ve never been able to hold myself accountable in the same way. It’s as though my subconscious mind won’t be fooled by anything that doesn’t come with very real consequences. Can’t meet an editor given deadline? There are real consequences to that. I might not get another contract. I’ll ruin my relationship with the publisher. My book might never see the light of day elsewhere.

But if I miss a deadline I impose on myself? Eh. No big deal. I can push it back a day. Or two. Or a week. Or a month. Before I know it, I’m twiddling my thumbs six months later because I’ve pushed that “deadline” back so many times I lost count.

According to its Wikipedia page, NaNoWriMo is “a creative writing project held annually in November in which participants attempt to write a 50,000 word novel in one month.” It’s a great way for writers to engage in a community of authors all attempting to do the same thing. And that’s commendable.

But there are no consequences for not meeting the 1,667 word daily goal. And instead of acting as a driving incentive, it’ll simply be pressure… for the sake of pressure. That has the opposite effect on me. It makes me stress out, wallow in guilt when I don’t make the word count (and that’s pretty much inevitable), and generally hate every moment of what’s likely to be an interminable month.

No thanks. For me, the best approach — aside from an editor-imposed deadline — is steady progress. A little bit of progress, every day. 500 words is great. 1000, even better. 1500? I love those days.

I won’t be writing an entire novel in the month of November. But you know what? That’s okay. I will be writing, and that’s all that matters.

(NaNoWriMo image by: mpclemens)

There’s something so exciting about beginning work on a new project. A new story always starts with a grain of an idea. It could be a character, like… a hardened warrior sitting in a tavern drinking mead. Or it could be a premise, like… what if a woman traveled through a time portal and ended up inhabiting the body of an ancient Egyptian queen?

Whatever spurs the concept, at this stage, there are no limitations placed on what this book could become. The story has the potential to become anything at all. All this freedom is a double-edged sword, though. On one hand, there is so much potential, it’s easy to get excited about the inevitable brainstorming exercises and creative tasks that go along with starting a new story. On the other hand, this is about the same time that the first niggling of doubt starts to set in.

“Can I pull this off?”

“But I don’t know anything about giant lizards / Peru / the way to kill someone using chlorinated water and a plastic spork.”

“What makes me think I can write, anyway?”

When I hit the last question, I know I need to take a deep breath and a step back. Because this is the fun part of the process. It’s pure play. Self doubt has no place here.

Nor is self doubt welcome when I finally start writing the first draft. Or when I edit. Or when I send the book into the world. Can I banish it altogether? No. If I could, I’d probably write and submit a whole lot more. But I can take it one day at a time, one story idea at a time… and see what happens.

(image by Pixeldiva)

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

As always, Evanovich delivers a fast paced, light, easy read. I flew through this book. Unlike the previous installments, this one felt a little… fluffy. Perhaps it was because I couldn’t quite get into the main case. I liked the evolving relationship between Stephanie and Morelli, and as always, I had a few laugh-out-loud moments. Overall, another good installment in this series. (A)

View all my reviews >>

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

What a wonderful sci-fi debut! I was extremely impressed with Morgan’s lean, evocative prose. I adored Kovacs — his voice and his plight grabbed me from the first page and wouldn’t let go. The story had everything I crave in a top notch read: excellent pacing, wonderful world building, three-dimensional characters and a plot that kept me riveted into the wee hours of the night. I’m thrilled to have discovered Richard Morgan. I ordered his entire backlist as soon as I turned the last page of ALTERED CARBON. (A+)

View all my reviews >>

Other links you might want to check out while you’re surfing:

• Worth Reading: Altered Carbon (readmorebooks.wordpress.com)
• Under the Skin of Science Fiction (cinematical.com)

There’s something sublimely sensual about the first touch between the hero and heroine. By this point, the anticipation has built and built, both in the characters and in the readers. Now, it’s up to the author to deliver.

I’m sharing one of my favorite scenes today, from ONCE UPON A CONQUEST. This first touch is rather… prolonged, but I think it works very well here. See if you agree.

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“What a trip.”

The low, muttered words slipped out from between Amy’s dry lips before she could stop them. Her eyes were closed and she kept them that way, not yet ready to subject herself to the bright beams of sunlight warming her skin, or to the intense pain that would surely follow.

The world swayed suddenly and her body tilted at an odd angle. Instinctively, Amy tightened her grip on the hard, lean flesh coiling beneath her fingertips.

Prickles of awareness raised goose bumps on her bare arms. Her breath caught in her throat. Pulse thundering in her ears, she steadied her nerves for whatever she was about to face, then opened one eye slowly, cautiously.

“Holy hell,” she whispered at the sight of soft, infinitely kissable lips, the sharp line of a blunt nose, the hint of stubble marring a perfectly square masculine jaw.

The man pressed her closer to his chest and quickened his stride. He held her like she weighed nothing at all, which she supposed was dangerously close to the truth. She swallowed hard, determined not to think about her illness. At least, not for as long as this man’s strong arms enclosed her in warm heat and solid comfort.

His dark eyebrows slashed down over impossibly green eyes as he stared at her, something akin to wonder on his handsome features.

“Christabel,” he said.

The name resonated with familiarity and longing, sending a rush of heat to pool low in her belly. Damn. His voice was low and silky, the kind of voice made for whispering sweet nothings in a girl’s ear as his body pressed down on top of hers, his fingers touching every inch of bare flesh, his cock–

God.

She stopped herself before that particular fantasy could get her into way more trouble than she was obviously already in. But oh, how she wished it had been her name he’d murmured with such reverence.

Amy cleared her throat. Her tongue snaked out to wet her parched lips, and she saw his gaze follow the movement. A blush snaked up her cheeks. “Err… look, I don’t know who you think I am, or where we are, but you must have me confused with someone else.”

His brows furrowed. “You do not know who you are?” There was no hint of mockery in his slightly accented voice, just a startling concern.

She laughed, a high pitched giggle that sounded forced, even to her. “I know exactly who I am. My name is Amy Conrad. I’m here on vacation.” She lifted her head from where it rested on his shoulder and peered around her. This wasn’t the island where she’d rented her small coble. The long dock that had lined the edge of shore was missing, and the merchants and throngs of overexcited tourists were also conspicuously absent. “Wherever here is.”

“I do not know the true name of this island, but you are home.”

She took in the long stretch of golden sand, the palm trees gently swaying in the breeze, the endless span of turquoise ocean. “This is your home?” she asked, unable to disguise the wonder in her voice. “You live here?”

“For now.” She thought he’d say more, so she listened to the sound of his footsteps falling on the soft sand as silence stretched between them.

Then, when it became clear he had no intention of either explaining how she got here or putting her down, she tried again. “You don’t have to carry me.”

To demonstrate, she wriggled in his grasp, hoping his grip would slip and he’d place her on her feet. Instead, his fingers dug into her skin and he only held her closer to his firm, muscular chest.

His very bare chest.

That realization made a tiny whimper slip out between her lips. Ripples of sublime longing made her tremble. She clamped her mouth shut firmly, hoping he hadn’t heard.

“Same Christabel.” The strange statement gave no indication whether or not he was aware of her lapse in judgment. “Less clothes, but definitely the same Christabel. Still squirming and fighting to get free.”

“Yeah, well, I can walk on my own.”

“You always could.”

She blew out a deep breath, considering his words. She could detect no obvious sarcasm in his tone. “You still don’t seem to understand. I’m not who you think I am.”

His full lips quirked upward in a teasing smile. “Perhaps you’re not who you think you are.”

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Want more? Pick up ONCE UPON A CONQUEST at Amber Heat!

And while you’re at it, don’t forget to check out the other wonderful snippets generously provided by the following authors: