I am completely honored to have Desiree Holt on my blog today. This incredible woman has just celebrated her 100th book release, Downstroke. To celebrate, one lucky commenter will win their pick of an e-book from Desiree’s backlist.
What or who inspired you to first start writing?
I used to think it was all the mystery writers I read until I began my first mystery and couldn’t get past chapter three. Then I read a romantic suspense by Linda Howard and I was hooked. But I have to say, as my genres have changed and expanded, I owe a lot of that to Joey Hill who write incredible erotic BDSM love stories.
If you could go back in time and lay claim to any book written, which one would you want and why?
Trustee From the Tool Room by Nevile Shute. Because it’s an incredible adult fairy tale that makes you reread it over and over again.
When you are writing and hit a stumbling block, what do you do to try and get over the hurdle?
I usually work ion more than one manuscript at a time, so when I get stuck on one I can change to the other. Sometimes I just can’t hear the characters talking to me. Oh, and a good glass of wine often helps!
What was the strangest thing that ever inspired a scene/book? What was the end result?
Wow. Well, let’s see. I was having some blood work done and my doctor sent me to a specialist just to check out a couple of things. The guy was beyond sexy and I knew I had to put him in a book, so he became the hero of Downstroke< my 100th release which will be out in April. His wife says his head is too big to get through the door!
If you could have supper with any of your characters, which one would you choose and where
would you take them?
Ben Lowell in Rodeo Heat. I’d want a romantic dinner for two in a secluded villa so that we could play out some of the scenes in the book. Nothing turns me on like a hot, sweaty cowboy.
Is there a type of story you would like to write, but are terrified you wouldn’t do a proper job?
What is it and why?
I write a lot of BDSM but I’ve always been nervous about writing from the Domme point of view, afraid I wouldn’t get it right and offend someone. Delight Me, in the Ellora’s Cave 1-800-DOMHep series which I’m privileged to be in with some very talented authors, like you, is my first attempt at it. Fingers crossed.
If you could sit down with one author from any time in history, who would it be? What questions would you want to ask them?
I think Mary Stewart, strangely enough. I still reread her first release, Nine Coaches Waiting. I’d like to know what inspired her to write romance and how she came up with her plots and characters. She’s still a master as far as I’m concerned.
If someone gave you a minion tomorrow, what would be the first task you’d ask them to complete?
Bathe me. I think there are few things as sexy as being pampered in a bathtub.
E-books vs print books? E-readers vs. paper? Can’t we all just get along? What’s your preference?
Ebooks, definitely. Cost effective and I can carry 800 hundred books in a slim, purse-size instrument. Plus, I like to reread parts of books and this way I can flip around with having a ton of books to wade through.
If you were a superhero, what would your name be and what super powers would you possess?
A female superhero, of course, and my name would be Anacostia, like the river. I’d want to be able to leap buildings like Superman and deflect bullets like Wonder Woman.
What project are you working on next?
The book of my heart, which release April 11 from Ellora’s Cave, and coincidentally is my 100th release. I’ve been published since 2006 and I’m pretty psyched about this whole thing. Downstroke is the story of two people thrown together twenty years after a bitter parting. Set against the backdrop of the music industry, it’s the story of regrets, torment, suspense, and a love that’s grown into something ripe and mature, if only they can put aside the past to grab
onto it. He’s a country rock icon, she’s a private security specialist hired to protect him. Think Charlie’s Angels meet Crazyheart.
How can readers find out more about you?
Check out my web site www.desireeholt.com and my blog www.desireeeholtellsall.com. And also on my web site you’ll find a lit of other blogs I post on. I’m easy to find. Come and visit me.
Thank you, Desiree!! And don’t forget to comment for your chance to win!!
As an added bonus, check out this kick-ass excerpt from Downstroke.
Blurb
It’s been twenty years since Charley Roper and Dallas Creed parted with great bitterness. In that time she’s made a career for herself with the FBI and private security and he’s been a country rock music icon…tumbled to the bottom and risen again. Now someone’s trying to kill him and Morgan Creed wants Charley to protect his brother
and find out who’s after him. When they meet again after all this time it’s obvious the chemistry is still there, stronger than ever. They’re older but are they wiser? Caught up in the bitter wash of memories and the tension of a killer in stalking mode, Charley and Dallas begin a roller coaster ride that is emotional erotic and suspenseful. Is their love
strong enough after twenty years to pull them back together?
Twenty years ago Dallas Creed and Charley Roper were lovers with their entire future ahead of them. Until they split. Badly. Now he’s a country rock icon who made it to the top, hit bottom but is back at the top of his game. And Charley’s the private security specialist hired to protect him from an unknown killer in stalking mode. Caught up in the
bitter wash of memories they begin a roller coaster ride that is suspenseful, emotional and erotic. Is their love strong enough to erase the past and bring them back together before the killer strikes again?
Excerpt
So here I was, waiting for my first glimpse of the man on a stage since he and his pickup band played the Raccoon Saloon all those years ago. It was time to find out if I’d actually managed to wipe Dallas Creed out of my system. If bottling up my emotions and using other men to wipe away traces and memories of him had worked at all.
The night had a magical quality to it, a perfect Texas night with stars blinking against a black velvet sky. A very soft breeze stirred the air, chasing away the last heat of the day. The sense of expectancy in the outdoor concert facility was nearly palpable.
Anticipation fairly zapped through the air like bolts of energy. I could even feel it myself, the kind of feeling you got on Christmas morning when you ran downstairs, or when you were right on the brink of the most outstanding orgasm you’d ever had. Seventy-five hundred people moved restlessly in their seats in front of me. An almost equal amount
were spread out on the rise of the hill behind me, drinking and staring at the stage with binoculars, even though at the moment there was nothing to see. They were all waiting for the same thing.
The curtain was drawn across the stage, heightening the edge of expectancy. Especially for me, much as I hated to admit it. What was behind there? What was his band like now after they’d tasted success once and were back on top with him again?
I could feel the energy sizzling through the crowd. Well, why not? If nothing else, Dallas Creed had always had an electric presence. Add in the staging, his suck-my-tongue voice and the electricity of his music and you had a knockout winner.
The soft notes of a viola floated in the air from behind the curtain, joined immediately by violins, and I wondered what the hell? Violins? Then I realized it was a synthesizer. And obviously a damn good musician coaxing music from it. The
sound that mimicked violins seemed to hold the audience in thrall, as if they were expectantly awaiting a grand moment. The music built and built as the magician behind the synthesizer added the full-throated sounds of woodwinds and the rich tones and powerful chords of an organ, swelling to a crescendo. The last note held and held and held, flowing out into the crowd, pulling at us as if to say, Wait for it, it’s coming.
Then I heard the familiar first downstroke of the rhythm guitars as they began the intro to the first song. The curtain drew back slowly to reveal the band onstage, the bass guitar and keyboards now adding their voices, the drums accenting them with a syncopated beat.
All sound ended abruptly and the crowd stilled for a breathless moment. The band launched into a rich intro to one of Dallas’ hits, an upbeat tune called Cowboys Get It Right, a song I realized the synthesizer had laid the foundation for. The spotlight came up and the man himself jogged onto the stage.
To my dismay, my traitorous heart tripped at the sight of him and an emotion I refused to name clogged my throat. Dallas Creed was definitely a lot older, forty-three to the twenty-three he’d been the last time I saw him in person. Newspaper photos had kept me up with his aging process, but no picture could do justice to the energy still
radiating from this man. The energy that had drawn me to him in the first place.
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