This month’s author for interview is Skye Michaels who became an author just a few months after me. Over to you…
I have been writing erotic romance, mostly M/F BDSM Contemporary, for three years. My first book, Caleigh’s Collar, was published in January, 2012. It’s still available and still selling much to my delight and amazement. I was so excited I’m sure everyone in my neighborhood heard me yelling when I got that first acceptance email from Siren. Since then I’ve written 25 books and have become a Siren Exclusive Author. I now write full time and love the freedom from a set schedule that gives me. I know I still have a million stories in my head to tell.
(I know exactly what you mean - I felt the same way when I got my first acceptance!)
What’s your guiltiest pleasure?
I have a strange addiction to the “Ancient Aliens” show. I don’t know why. I’m not sure I buy into the concept, but I just LOVE it. It might be because of all the archaeological footage, OR it might be Giorgio Tsouklas’ hairdo!
What do you do when you’re not writing?
I spend time with friends and family, and of course Snickerdoodles, my Goldendoodle, who rules the roost around here. I love to drive up to Ocala (Florida horse country) and just relax in the hammock with a book while The Dude runs the yard. I sometime write there. It’s so quiet and peaceful.
Favourite rainy day activity?
I like to curl up on the sofa with a cup of coffee, a good book, and an old quilt. While I LOVE my own stories, sometimes it’s good to get out of my own head.
Tell us about your latest book.
Tell us about your latest book.
My current WIP is called Pansy’s Passion (working title), Book 5 of The Black Dahlia Hotel series. This is a continuation of the story that started in Melodie’s Song. I love to show the interaction between best girlfriends as well as the romantic M/F story. Pansy and Billie Crockett have been setting off sparks since they first met, and now it’s time to tell their story.
What makes a great hero?
A great hero has to be sexy and funny, but most of all has to have compassion. My current favorite is Logan Hawk in Melodie’s Song. He is half Irish and half Apache. While saving the heroine’s life after she was attacked and stabbed on the street, he feels their souls connect as she is clinging to life. It takes him two years to contact her and establish a relationship.
(Interesting heritage – Irish and Apache!)
Anne in Anne’s Courage resonates with me because we both had breast cancer, and both have issues with the scars. Jamie Devereau, the hero in that story, is a bad boy but good man, and one of my favorites.
(It somehow brings it to life when you can bring real life issues into your stories, doesn’t it?!)
Is there any trivia about your latest/forthcoming story that you can share with us (eg, the name of a real life pet that you used in the story)?
I often use the names of my friends, and all of my horses and my dog have made it into the books. But the best one is that my ex-husband (name changed to Harmon Burke to protect the not so innocent) appears as one of the bad guys in Harper’s Submission. He does redeem himself in the end, but I had a lot of fun giving the character a hard time!
What are you currently working on, or what’s on the horizon?
I recently started a Male/Male series called The Wilton Park Grand Hotel series, set against the background of a gay boutique hotel near Fort Lauderdale. It’s a spinoff of The Black Dahlia. It was a challenge to change genres, but I really enjoyed writing the three books that currently make up the series (Alex’s Sacrifice, Ricky’s Dilemma, and Danny’s Escape). If the books do well, I think I will alternate between M/m and M/f and see how that goes.
Quick Fire round
Tall skinny or short but muscular? No, no, no! Tall and muscular with dark wavy hair!
Hawaii or Norway? Hawaii and Alex O’Laughlin (Hawaii 50)
Turquoise or mauve? Turquoise
A juicy grilled steak with garlic butter or vanilla & raspberry cheesecake with white chocolate? (see below)
Historical or sci-fi movie? Steak and a historical movie.
George Clooney or Brad Pitt? - Neither of them ring my chimes. Now, Channing Tatum….Adrian Paul…..gotta be tall, dark and handsome!
Flogging or paddling? Paddling. Lots of that in my books – LOL!
Bouquet of roses of bunch of wild flowers? Wild flowers
Links of how fans can find you on the internet/buy your books?
Facebook fan page:
Bookstrand author page:
Amazon author page:
Teaser from Melodie’s Song, Book 3 of The Black Dahlia Hotel, by Skye Michaels
The Paint Splatters Gallery, Tribeca Section of New York, New York, Wednesday morning, July 1, 2015
Melodie Buxton watched from behind the display panel near the front door. That guy was standing in front of the gallery window again. He stopped at the same time every morning to just look in the window and stare at the large abstract painting she had displayed there. It was her own work and not for sale. The painting had helped her work through some of the anger she still felt every time she glanced in a mirror. She never really looked. The rest of her pain she kept as private as possible. The guy she had been seeing at the time of the knife attack had bailed when he saw the angry red scar on her face. He wasn’t up to the challenge it seemed. By putting the painting in the window of the gallery she was displaying the only face she was willing to show the public.
Logan Hawk stood outside the gallery staring at the astounding painting that was bathed in a cone of light. The small signature on the bottom right hand corner of the canvas read M. Buxton. He knew that was the name of the woman who had been stabbed on the sidewalk just up the street almost two years ago. He could hardly forget that name. It was etched in his mind. He had been walking toward her when he had seen the stabbing and called 911. Then he had stayed with her until the ambulance had taken her away.
Melodie Buxton was beautiful. She was tall but not too slender with glossy, dark hair and haunting deep blue eyes. The way she moved gave the impression that she might have been a dancer at one time. He had noticed her over two years ago on his morning walk for coffee and the newspapers. The gallery was on his daily route from the loft that contained his apartment and the rehearsal space where the band practiced and where he did his composing.
That day almost two years ago her blood had been all over his hands and clothes. It had oozed between his fingers. He would never forget the feeling of desperation he’d felt as he knelt beside her on the pavement. He had tried to stop the bleeding by putting pressure on the wound he’d covered with some napkins from the coffee he had been carrying. They were all he’d had to use. He had never felt the same about Starbucks again. Blood and cappuccino—not a good combination.
Now once in a while he caught a glimpse of her in the gallery. She never came near the window when he was standing there. One of these days he was just going to open the door and walk in and ask her how she was doing. After the incident he’d called the hospital for her condition. He had not been able to get much information so he’d just gone in and made his way to the intensive care unit. He’d bribed an orderly and had found out that she was in a medically induced coma. After that he had not wanted to intrude on her family. Months later when he began seeing her at the gallery occasionally he noticed that she stayed away from the windows. He had seen her on the street a couple of times, but she kept her head down and turned away from passersby as much as she could. It was clear she was not ready to interact with people—particularly strangers. He figured she had to be scarred. The knife wound had been horrific.
A few months ago he noticed the big abstract painting in the window and just knew she had painted it. The swirling red strokes running through the tranquil pastels spoke of her unresolved anger and pain. It had struck a chord in his emotions as well. He had his own demons to slay—unresolved issues from his half breed childhood, his slightly ambivalent feelings about his BDSM lifestyle, and mostly the fact that the music he now made was not what he wanted to be making. In his heart he wanted to be a jazz pianist like Keith Jarret or Chick Corea, not a hard rocker. That painting somehow seemed to put his feelings in sharp focus for him. The other guys in the band—Billie Crockett, Keith Ransom, Guy Penrod, and Tyler Easton—depended on him. He knew he was the musical glue that held the group together. His rock songs gave the band their edge, but his jazz compositions were what fed his soul. He’d like to see the band gradually evolve toward an Earth Wind & Fire type of jazz rock emulsion.