Hello and welcome to another
interview. You would think that I'd be jaded by now, but no... Not when I have
the joy to welcome someone close to my heart, a member of my family (yes, you
know? my SO family!).
While I wrote this, I tried to
recall a book of his – any book – that I might not have agreed with...and I
couldn't. Couldn't find a single one, and he's written a lot of books! All his
stories have brought me somewhere that I can forget about my reality and dive
into his world of beautiful love and happy endings, even if the road to get
there isn't always an easy one.
So please take a seat, maybe have
a shot of tequila or maybe a glass of wine, and enjoy the ride.
Ok, Important things first, are these sheets silk or cotton?
What? Oh, right, wrong blog! Sorry, back to MY usual questions...
Ok, Important things first, are these sheets silk or cotton?
What? Oh, right, wrong blog! Sorry, back to MY usual questions...
*eyes cup and lifts brow* I am most definitely
coffee for the morning and most of the afternoon! Don't think I could function
without it.
What kind of books do you write?
I write m/m romances, predominately
contemporary, although I have written several regencies and a couple of
paranormals. Sometimes, I need the variety. *sips coffee*
Why did you choose this genre?
I chose to write this genre because I enjoy
reading it. There's a certain pleasure in reaffirming that love is for everyone
by writing about same sex couples finding HEA. Besides, it's sexy.*smirks*
When you write, are you keyboard
or paper?
Keyboard. I'd like to be able to write more on
paper, but my hands cramp up and my writing becomes illegible…so much so that
even I can't decipher it, which makes typing it difficult. (See, I almost put
"hard", but I'm so used to the Story Orgy gang jumping on things like
that with a sexual innuendo, that I refrained.)
Are you more motivated to write
when the sun shines or when the weather is gray?
I'm motivated to write when it's sunny out. The
sun is a major source of inspiration to me and has been since childhood. I love
its enduring nature.
Where do you find your
inspiration?
Everywhere. There's so much around us to be
inspired by, so much quirky human beauty to spark an idea. I find handsome men
inspiring, and nature, and music…
When you start a book, do you
already have the whole story in your head, or is it built progressively?
Sometimes I have a whole story in my head. A
lot of the time I don't. And sometimes when I do? The characters go off and do their
own thing anyway. But it's all good as long as they end at the HEA.
How do you feel before the release
of a book? Fear, joy? And after?
Nervous more than fear. I always wonder if I
maybe should have done something differently. There's a moment where you want
to snatch it back and proof it one last time, you know? After? Well, the
nervous usually lasts a few days, then it’s the relief, and the giddy euphoria,
then the ‘omg’ nervousness as you wait for feedback.
Between your first and last novel,
do you feel a change? Do you write differently?
I think so. I write with more awareness to the
publisher's guidelines, I believe. But the stories? I think they've stayed true to my voice.
They say that writers project
themselves into the skin and into the head of his hero / heroine, is that the
case for you?
To some extent I think we can't help putting a
bit of ourselves into our characters. As for the other
way around? I'm not sure about that.
You define yourself more like a
bookworm, a city mouse or a country mouse?
Oh I'm a book worm. Most definitely. I have
thousands of books and if I had room I'd have thousands more. My significant
other bought me my first kindle so that we could save on space. J
Molière said: “Writing is like
prostitution. First we write for the love of it, then for a few friends, and in
the end for money.” What do you think about it?
Um…If most of us are writing for money we're
going to be sadly disappointed because very few writers make "big"
money.
Your books have already been translated?
No, not yet. I’m hopeful though.
Do you pay attention to literary
criticism?
Literary criticism? I pay attention to well
thought out, specific commentary that I feel can help me to improve my craft. I
do not pay attention to sarcastic, mean spirited or vague reviews that cannot
help me in any way. Trust me, that way lies madness.
The days are 25 hours. You spend
that extra hour in the garden or in the kitchen?
Oh…I think I'd have to split it- a day in the
garden followed by one in the kitchen.
What is the book you would bring
with you on a deserted island?
John Steinbeck's East of Eden. It's an all time
favorite.
In the evening, do you turn off
the light directly or do you take the time to read?
Oh I read, I couldn't fall asleep otherwise.
I
jumped off the couch and smiled weakly at my sister. "Um…"
She
frowned at me. "Zeke? Is that him? I thought we were gonna hang out
tonight?"
Mindy
and I were hardly dressed for company. She'd been home all summer, and we'd
scarce spent any time together. Tonight was supposed to be for us, we planned
to loaf around at home all evening with back to back episodes of our favorite
campy television program, watching the judges gush over fish gut ice cream, while
eating Ben and Jerry's by the tub.
We'd
planned, plotted, and finagled for this night of twin bonding. Why the hell was
Gabe banging on our door?
"Yeah.
It's him. I…"
She
waved a spoonful of Chunky Monkey in my direction. "Go. See what he wants,
but if you're not back in before the end of the show, I'm going to eat the
Chubby Hubby, too."
Mindy
was great like that. "Thanks, Mindy. I swear, I did not double book on
this night." The little excited pitter patter of my heart wouldn't let me
be too mad at Gabe though. He was a busy guy, and I didn’t see him as often as
I'd like. The habit he'd developed lately of dropping by without notice,
though, bothered me. On the one hand, I considered as I strolled to the front
door, it meant he was comfortable and happy in our relationship, which I had to
see as a plus.
On
the other, expecting me to be home and available without notice struck me as
taking advantage. I didn't care for that at all.
I
pulled open the front door and was assaulted by two completely different types
of heat.
One
was due to the late evening humidity and the high temperatures, but the other
was all Gabe.
Tall,
broad shouldered, thickly muscled, with his brilliant light blue eyes and, ummm,
the scent of hard work clinging to him. The quirky little grin on his lips told
me he'd noted my interest.
"Hey,"
I forced the words past my suddenly dry mouth. A drop of sweat beaded on his
brow and I watched it trickle down his temple and into the faint stubble of his
jaw.
"Hey,
yourself." Gabe leaned forward and my vision blurred as he kissed me. I
might have fallen on my ass if he hadn't held me up with his arm around my
waist.
When
did that happen? I chased his lips for another kiss, savoring the taste of man
and mint and the mingled odors of outdoors and wood and sweat that comprised
Gabe. No fancy cologne had ever done it for me like the natural smells that
clung to Gabe after a day of work.
"Did,
um…" My voice faded as he shifted his focus to nibble at my neck, tugging
aside the neckline of my Dolce and Gabbana tee. It felt so damn good, the nip
and suck of his mouth along my collarbone that I couldn’t even bring myself to
protest the potential ruination of my favorite designer wear. Closing my eyes,
I let the sensations sweep through me, the rough caress of his stubbled jaw on
my skin, the slick glide of his tongue.
"Zeke?
I’m opening the Chubby Hubby!" Mindy hollered from the back of the house,
breaking the fog of lust that had begun to drown me. I pushed gently against
Gabe's chest, shivering a little as the muscles bunched under my touch. He
pulled back and smiled down at me, lips glistening, tempting me to toss aside
the night I'd planned and dive right back into his mouth and the passionate
interlude it promised.
"Did
we have plans?" Was that my voice, so deep and husky? If I could sound
like that all the time, I'd be a radio DJ, not an aspiring chef.
"No,
I finished up an installation at your neighbor around the block's place and
thought I'd stop by on the off chance that you'd be here. When I saw the car in
the drive, I figured I'd stop."
I
was mesmerized by the drops of water gliding down his nose and cheeks, by the
flush on his skin and the sparkle in his eye. That was the only excuse I could
think of for what happened next. Blinded by lust. "Come in. Mindy's here,
but we can go to my room."
The
door swung shut behind him, and he spun me around against the wall for another
kiss. I couldn't help arching up into him, grinding my cock against his thigh
in search of a little relief from the ache of need that had blossomed with the
first sight of him.
"He
gone now?" Mindy shouted again.
"Am
I interrupting?" Gabe whispered against my lips.
I
jerked back to reality with a crash. Gabe stared at me, a little frown between
his brows. I rubbed it away with my thumb. "No," I called back.
"You got your pants on? We're coming back there."
I
grabbed Gabe's hand and half dragged him down the hall to the family room.
"We were just cuddled up back here eating ice cream and watching some Iron
Chef," I explained.
"Okay."
He accepted my assertion, but how would Mindy react?
She
gave me a telling frown when I dragged Gabe into the room behind me. "Hey,
Min. You don't mind if Gabe joins us, do you?"
The
frown vanished to be replaced by a polite smile. "No, come on in."
Mindy swung her bare legs off the couch and dropped the Chunky Monkey container
on the coffee table. "In fact, since you're here to keep my baby brother
company, I think I'll just go on back to my room and make a few phone
calls."
"You
don't have to do that, Mindy," I protested. "We only have a few weeks
left before you go back."
She
did that thing I hate where she flips her hair over her shoulder and acts dumb.
"Yeah, but I’ve got to call some people up there and make sure everything
is set for my apartment in the fall."
Having
stripped off his T-shirt, Gabe slipped into the nest of blankets on the sofa
and held an arm out to me. Mindy rolled her eyes and flounced down the hall. I
let go of my disappointment at Mindy's exit and climbed into his lap, tugging a
blanket over us. Strangely enough, my parents insisted on running the air conditioning
at a consistent seventy-two degrees all summer long, so no matter how hot it
was outside, I always felt a bit of a chill inside. My pop said it was more
economical, and he wasn't one to take into consideration the fact that I was
freezing half the time, so I wore flannel pajama pants and a T-shirt for this
lounge night.
"What
are you watching?" Gabe was staring at the television with an expression
of something akin to horror.
I
glanced at the screen, where Morimoto was hacking the head off a huge salmon.
"Classic Iron Chef. It's fantastic. Have you ever seen it? They make all
this really beautiful food using parts of the ingredient that we'd never use in
America."
"Okay."
Seeing
his lack of enthusiasm, I shrugged and settled myself closer against him.
"It's DVR'ed. If you want to watch something else, the remote is on the
table behind you. I've seen this a million times anyway."
His
sigh of relief jostled me as I rested my cheek against his chest. When Gabe
stretched back to reach behind for the remote, I nuzzled his arm pit, soaking
up the scents of him, feeling my senses reel with the intensity of his
presence. I blew out a breath, and he jerked, grabbing my ass with one hand.
"That
tickles!"
"I
know." I licked a stripe down from his pit to his nipple and set about
amusing myself as he switched the channel to something that sounded like
football. The tangy salt of sweat and the underlying flavor of soap and Gabe's
skin enticed me to continue.
Strong
fingers combed through my hair, holding me in place as I took a lick of a taut
brown nipple.
Sighing,
Gabe pushed me closer, and I knew what he wanted. I sucked the nub into my
mouth, flicked it with my tongue until his fingers clenched and he groaned.
"Your sister?"
"She's
not going to come back out here. That was her not so subtle way of telling me
to get some when she left earlier." I tipped back and dragged my tongue up
his Adam's apple, over his chin to settle my mouth against his again.
I
licked and nibbled and teased until he took over the kiss, pressuring my mouth
apart, crushing our lips together so he could plunge his tongue to the depths
of my mouth. I sucked his tongue, rubbed against it with my own. We strained
together, until I slowly became aware that I was humping against him furiously.
Cock creating a wet spot on my pj's, lungs practically burning from lack of
oxygen.
It
was my turn to pull back, and he nearly refused to let me.
"Wait."
I pushed upright, so I sat astride his lean hips. Thrusting up, he brushed the
ridge of his cock, straining at the zip of his jeans, against my crease.
"Yeah, I want that," I murmured, pulling my T-shirt up over my head
and tossing it to the side. "But I don't have anything in here."
His
eyes nearly crossed, and his grip on my hips tightened. "We can go to your
room, or you can lift off me so I can get my wallet out."
Now, where to find Lee Brazil, you’re
going to ask…. Well, first, on Facebook on his Personal Page
or his Author Page. Or, you can
take a look at his blog Lee's Musings. You can go and chose among all his books on Amazon, Breathless Press, BookStrand, and All Romance Ebooks.
Thanks for having me over Jade! *hugs*
ReplyDeleteOh I'm loving having two of my fave people in one place...um...if I get a little too excited and do lewd things just remember the combo of you two made me do it - I'm completely innocent! *winks*
ReplyDeleteP.S. Great interview! :)