Thank you to
Laura for inviting me on Pen Is Envy today.
I was wondering what to say to you all, past doing a promo for my new release, THIRST. Then it dawned on me… I’m on Laura’s blog and so what better to talk about than writing with a partner?
If you’d have told me eighteen months ago that I would not only be writing, but would be published, and not only that, but people would like it! I’d have laughed in your face and pressed speed dial for the men in white coats.
Then, if you would have said, hang on, Lisa, you will also meet fellow writers, one of which will not only become your writing partner on a series of novels, but also one of your closest friends… I wouldn’t have even bothered ringing the men in white coats… I’d have just driven you to the loony bin myself.
Apparently all the above is actually happening… so isn’t my face red!
The lovely Laura came to me and suggested that we write something together. I was excited and we bounced off each other really well. So well, that we ended up with a four book series involving a cowboy detective from Phoenix and a suave, upper-class inspector from Scotland Yard.
Writing with a partner is challenging, exciting and lots of fun. Ironing out the plot points, throwing ideas into the pot and creating two characters who gell has been uplifting, especially when you find someone who is on the same wavelength as you, just gets the creative juices flowing—in a purely platonic fashion, obviously.
It’s been a hell of a ride and looks to set to pick up speed and I don’t know about you, but I’m just gonna hold on for the ride and take in as much of the scenery as I can, for as long as it lasts.
And for those of
you are interested in tucking yourself in with a copy of Thirst… here is a
little snippet to whet your appetite…
Blurb:
Detective Max Bowman is
hunting a serial killer terrorizing the city, who leaves victims drained of
blood. No fingerprints, no clues, no ideas. Only a mysterious inscription
carved into each body.
Frustrated with the lack of
progress, Max takes a break in a local pub.
Attacked by the attractive man buying him drinks, he is left for dead in
the alley behind the bar.
Waking up in Carter Gray's
bed was the last thing he expected. Who
was this mysterious man? What was his
dark secret? Why does he make Max
tremble with anticipation every time their eyes meet?
It becomes apparent that
Carter is the only one with the 'expertise' to help him find the killer. But is his attraction to Carter clouding his
judgment and is he refusing to acknowledge that the killer may well be Carter
himself?
Excerpt:
Pain,
lots of pain. Max tried to force his eyes open, but only one would comply; the
other already swollen shut from the impact of a closed fist. He wasn't sure how
long he'd been lying in the alley behind the bar. He dimly remembered a tall
blond man with piercing blue eyes who introduced himself as Tony, or it might
have been Tommy, buying him a beer, followed by way too many shots, he'd
stopped counting after the fourth; remembered laughing and joking with him,
flirting and being flirted with in return. Nothing seemed out of place. Nothing
that was until the man suggested they go somewhere quieter.
Instead
of heading out into the brightly lit street, Max had found himself being
jostled from both sides into the alley behind the bar. The blond held onto him
on his left and from nowhere a dark haired man grabbed his right arm. Too late
Max realized that everything was out of place, just as the blond man's
fist connected with his face and his knee with Max's groin.
The two
of them punched and kicked him, and all he could do was curl in on himself on
the ground and hope he could minimize the damage. He didn't want to think too
much about the sharp snap he heard when a hard boot connected with his ribs,
nor the meaty sounds of flesh upon flesh. Max was assaulted by a wave of
dizziness and he felt darkness reach out to engulf him in its warm embrace, but
he mentally shook his head and stubbornly refused to let it claim him. He felt
hands grabbing at his keys and his wallet and then more pain as a boot
connected with the muscle in the left cheek of his ass. His head was pulled
back by a vicious hand twisting in his chestnut-colored hair, his glassy brown
gaze locking onto piercing blue as the word "Fag" was spat at him and
his head was slammed back down on the dirt.
Max
heard their retreating footsteps and he tried to lift his head, the pain in his
side causing a cry to fall from his lips at the movement. He coughed and
cringed as he saw dark splatters of blood hit the ground. Wiping the back of a
shaky hand across his lips, he stared at the stain of red on his skin. He
stumbled to his knees, trying to use the wall beside him to pull himself up.
His legs buckled, and he crashed back to the ground, a deep groan wrenched from
him as he fell. Suddenly, he felt two strong arms, one around his shoulders and
one under his knees, lifting him as if he weighed no more than a small child.
His head lolled to the side, coming to rest on a firm shoulder and he had a
glimpse of jade green eyes looking down into his as the dark claimed him once
more.
* * * *
Carter
pulled open the door of his black 1968 Ford Mustang and eased his ward
carefully into shotgun, slowly reclining the seat to make the position more comfortable.
Taking off his heavy woolen coat, he rolled it and slipped it behind the man's
head to prop up the semi-conscious man. He gazed down at the battered face he
had been watching all night from his dark corner of the bar, aware how
beautiful it was underneath the swelling and bruising. The man's name was Max
that much he knew, because he had heard him introduce himself to his assailant.
He frowned, furious with himself that he had realized too late the blond twink
and his accomplice's plans for the young man. If he hadn't been distracted, if
he hadn't been so thirsty…
Carter
slid behind the wheel, his green eyes glittering in the muted glow from the
dome light as he closed the door behind him. A small smile lifted his lips as
he headed his car toward home. The two men who had robbed and beaten Max and
left him for dead had already paid for what they'd done. Glancing into his
rear-view mirror, he parted his lips and ran his tongue down his elongated
incisors.
They
wouldn't be hurting anyone ever again, and he wasn't thirsty anymore.
BIO:
I was born in Romford, Essex, but am now living
in Leigh on Sea, ten minutes away from the seaside town of Southend on Sea,
which boasts the longest pier in the world. My claim to fame! I am
having a total ball creating stories for the characters clamoring in my head
for attention. And I am totally amazed by the support they've received and hope
to give them voice for as long as people want to hear what they have to say.
On a personal note, I am the single mother of two children, aged eight and six, which makes for some interesting conversations, which sometimes end up in my stories! As if that wasn't enough to make me prematurely gray, we also have acquired a puppy called Winnie, named after my biggest vice... the Winchester brothers in Supernatural.
On a personal note, I am the single mother of two children, aged eight and six, which makes for some interesting conversations, which sometimes end up in my stories! As if that wasn't enough to make me prematurely gray, we also have acquired a puppy called Winnie, named after my biggest vice... the Winchester brothers in Supernatural.
Facebook:
Lisa Worrall Author
Twitter:
Lisa_Worrall
Email: lisaworrall69@gmail.com
Congrats! Can't wait to read thirst. Sounds so interesting!
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