Please welcome Lexi Adair to the stage with her novel, Rockstar. =) You can buy here!
1. How did you get started with your writing?
I’ve always been a writer, ever since I was a little girl. It’s the one thing that’s always stayed with me through the years.
2. What/what is your biggest muse?
My inspiration comes from everywhere. I’m usually inspired by something I’ve read, seen or heard and it can be a varied as something a friend says or a newscast on T.V It doesn’t always lead to a finished book but I try to always write whenever the muse is smiling down upon me.
3. Is there are character in one of your books you connect with the most?
I think I probably connect with Julia from my yet to be published Callaghan girls cause she’s a writer. I also love the fact that she’s kind klutzy and always seems to be getting herself into weird messes, because that’s so me. lol
4. What do you like to do in your free time other than write?
What free time? Lol With two kids and a husband and a full-time writing career there isn’t much time for anything else. But I suppose when I’m goofing off and not tending to kids, hubby or my writing I like to read, watch movies, go out with friends and of course shop.
5. What are some of your favorite books? Any genre or author.
I’ll read anything paranormal romance… and it has to have a big splash of romance. Otherwise I’m pretty partial to romance in general although my all time favorite books are WHITE OLEANDER by Janet Finch, FIVE QUARTERS OF THE ORANGE by Joanne Harris, Ann Rice’s VAMPIRE CHRONICLES and I’ve recently read the TWILIGHT series which I thought was pretty decent.
6. Where is your writing sancutary?
Wherever my kids aren’t. LOL I mostly write in my office although every afternoon I write in the car while I’m waiting to pick up the kids from school. The car isn’t really my sanctuary, but at least it’s quite (until they get in that is).
7. How did you celebrate “selling” your first book?
I didn’t. Isn’t that sad. I just immediately got started writing the next one.
8. What is your favorite this about Samhain?
Samhain has a great group of very talented authors and hard working staff. Everything is pretty author-friendly and that’s a welcome change from some of the other publishers who treat their authors like stud horses.
9. Is there something you’d like to see more of in RomanceLandia?
I’m always up for more paranormals.
10. Tell us about your editor.
Oh my God, she is the biggest bitch! LOL So totally just kidding! Tera is very bright and very supportive of her authors. She’s got a great sense of humor which I think is really important in this business. She knows how to crack the whip when needed but also knows how to give you a pat on the back when it’s deserved. She really cares about the books she works on and it really makes the whole experience a team effort. I hope every author is as lucky to have such a great editor!
“You came a damn long way just to see me.”
His words were harsh, terribly uncaring and might have made a lesser woman cry.
Perhaps if she had been some lovesick fan his reaction might have brought tears to her eyes. But Summer wasn’t a fan and she was more than capable of dealing with his type without losing her head. She couldn’t have cared less about his pretty face, celebrity status, gold records or millions of dollars. There was only one thing she wanted from Anthony Phoenix and it wasn’t an autograph. “Let’s make it worth the trip then.”
She didn’t bother to wait for an invitation as she took a seat beside him in the adjoining armchair.
In the shadowed corner of the dimly lit café a half-drawn velvet curtain shielded him from public view. It created a deceptive sense of privacy and solitude amidst the chaos. It muffled the chatter of other patrons, the hiss of the espresso machine, even the clatter of dishes. The curtain created a barrier between their world and his.
Rumor had it that this was his favorite hangout whenever he was back in his hometown. Her sources, damn secretive sources that had been almost impossible to crack, had told her he always made it a point to stop in for a cup of coffee.
Though he’d managed to escape the notice of the other patrons in the quiet Seattle café, he hadn’t escaped Summer, and he certainly wasn’t happy to see her.
“You want an interview you’ll have to contact my agent. I don’t get friendly with the media and I don’t like reporters.”
“So they tell me.” That was just fine by her. She sure as hell wasn’t looking to get friendly with him either—his reputation as a womanizer had made him as famous as his chart-topping records.
Despite her repugnance for celebrity womanizers Summer forced a smile. She might not have been interested in seducing the man, but she had every intention of putting his story to bed. The story they told her was impossible to get. The story that would make her career and prove once and for all to her prick of a boss that Summer Staite was worthy of her own byline. “This isn’t your typical interview, darling.”
“Really? What is it then?”
“A bedtime story.” A hint of a smile curved her ruby-painted lips. “I don’t do celebrity weddings. I don’t do dirty gossip. I don’t give a damn where you grew up, who you’re dating or when your next album is dropping. Stripped Magazine is all about the sex. We’re the best magazine to expose it all without ever exposing a thing.”
It was a spiel she had given countless times before. A smirk, a smile, sometimes laughter, that was the standard response. But Anthony stared blankly. Her words, fraught with danger and sensuality hadn’t cracked even the tiniest layer in his stone-cold façade.
“What’s your name?”
She reached across the table and offered her hand. “Summer Staite, Stripped Magazine.”
He took her hand in his. As his thumb grazed the back of her knuckles it ignited a trail of heat that flamed across her skin. “You’re not exactly playing by the rules, Summer Staite.”
She watched him slip a single cigarette out of the pack of Camels sitting on table. The pack was rumbled, no doubt having been shoved into the pocket of his jeans one time too many. She stared longingly at it. It had been two years since she’d quit but she couldn’t deny the subtle and thankfully fleeting urge to light up. “Well, you know what they say about rules.”
“They’re meant to be broken.” He put the tip between his lips and touched the lighter’s flame to it.
“There’s no smoking in here.” Summer nodded to the signs posted near the back door.
“Yeah well, they make an exception for me.” His words were cool and confident giving her the impression that he really wouldn’t have given a damn if they didn’t. If she had to wager a bet she’d say the exception was made simply because he was the Anthony Phoenix. Apparently that afforded him a complete lack of manners.
Even as he puffed away on the cigarette, Anthony’s gaze drew up to her mouth. Whether he was measuring her up or admiring the curve of her lips she couldn’t be sure. As a journalist Summer had prided herself on being able to read people, but Anthony’s expression revealed no insight into his character. He remained hard, dark and unyielding. It had her wondering if anything, or anyone, had ever managed to slip beneath that rock-hard exterior.
He blew out a breath laced with smoke that fanned across the table between them and made her wince in response. Her reaction sent the hint of smile to toy on his lips. A crack in the wall he had built around him. She wasn’t sure what that said about him, after all she couldn’t seem to read him and that, more than the second-hand smoke, unnerved her. It made her feel ill-prepared and out of control. Those were two things Summer never was.
“What does Stripped want with me?”
Summer bit down on her lower lip. How was she supposed to answer that? She could have told him plain and simple that Stripped was after a story. But she doubted very much that simple truth would make an impression on him. She needed some way to get past that barrier, to slip beyond the wall he’d built around himself and invoke a reaction. Any reaction at that point would have done. Laugh in her face, spit on the floor, hell, call her a nosey-bitch and walk away. Anything would have been better than his dark, silent stare.
“A lyrical lay.” The words dripped off her tongue like melted chocolate. Dark, sweet and terribly sinful. It was her favorite play on words and one that often worked so well in her particular line of work. The words painted a sensual, almost poetic picture in the mind and that was exactly what Summer did. She conjured fantasies on paper for the masses. In fact, if that asshole Spencer ever gave her her own column that was exactly what she intended to title it.
There was another crack in the wall as Anthony’s lips curved into a sexy, half-cocked smile—fleeting but genuine. He wasn’t known for being generous with his smiles and perhaps that was something Summer should have kept in mind. That dark, brooding gaze of his had become rather like an unwitting trademark.
He shifted uncomfortably, as though he hadn’t intended for that momentary lapse in character. “What exactly is that?”
“Sex,” she murmured breathlessly, as though the word itself was enough to ignite her inner passions. And in truth, she found that her hidden desires were strangely alive and wired. It shouldn’t have come as any surprise, for there was no other man more adept at making a woman ache with a single, unintentional glance, but ache she did.
She wasn’t the type of girl to be so easily enchanted by anyone. She dealt with celebrities all the time. Handsome, charming men who were accustomed to getting exactly what they desired—men just like Anthony.
But something about him had captivated her. It wasn’t his name or his striking face. Certainly not his record sales or celebrity status. Perhaps it was his inhibited manner. This coupled with her inability to read exactly what was on his mind intrigued her as much as it unnerved her. Perhaps it was that old adage, opposites attract. As clichéd as that was, Summer couldn’t deny there was some truth behind it. It felt as though he was always holding back from saying what he was really thinking when she, a polar opposite, too often blurted out whatever happened to be on her mind.
She shifted, crossing her legs toward him. She was suddenly much too aware of the heat building between her thighs. Business, she reminded herself, she was here on business. She didn’t have time for men. Her career saw to that on more than one occasion. But if she had the time and was so inclined, she certainly couldn’t afford for it to be this man. Not when he unknowingly held her career in his hands. “Stripped readers want to know what Anthony Phoenix yearns for. What you desire. You provide the image, we provide the fantasy.”
“But you don’t want an interview.”
“What Stripped wants is foreplay.”