I've known Taryn since she had another name and I've heard much of her writing in critique group. She has a great sense of the sensual. I really remember one of the first scenes I heard her read, a kiss, a long kiss, a sensual kiss. Now she's published her first work of fiction. Wishing her much success.
1. What's your genre or do you write in more than one?
The more the merrier.
2. Did you choose your genre or did it choose you?
Whenever we play rock-scissors-paper, paper always wins. Or, you know, pixels.
3. Is there any genre you'd like to try? Or is there one you wouldn't?
That's a mystery. Or maybe a cozy.
4. What fiction do you read for pleasure?
What have you got?
5. Tell me a bit about yourself and how long you've been writing,
Probably ever since I learned to scribble and string words together. In elementary school, I think I must have been in third grade, I wrote a story about a weather man, astronauts and the itsy-bitsy spider (yeah, one story) and they made me go read it to the fourth, fifth and sixth graders. I was totally mortified. And yet, oddly exhilarated. A little while later, I discovered I could relieve the absolute mind-numbing boredom of a summer job at the Department of Motor vehicles by scribbling into a notebook in between making check-marks designating the number of people signing up for the written portion of the drivers' test (I, myself, would not pass the drivers' test for another six years and three attempts) and then, a few years after that, I discovered a neatly-turned phrase could get me into rock concerts for free, pay the rent on my first apartment and car And put me through graduate school. So, not a bad deal. but I suppose i digress. Actually, I am back to writing about astronauts now, in a way.
6. Which of your characters is your favorite?
Well, the boys, of course. It's always been the boys. sometimes their brothers. and their sidekicks. don't like the girls much. probably jealous of all the time they spend with my hunks.
7. Are there villains in your books and how were they created?
they are hatched. for the most part.
8. What are you working on now?
I guess I could tell you. But then I'd have to kill you.
9. What's your latest release and how did the idea arrive?
Sleepy Hollow Dreams, available now from the Scarlet Rose line of The Wild Rose Press, Amazon.com, and BookStrand.com
It started out as a mild-mannered halloween story, just about a year ago, actually. it sort of morphed. i blame the mushrooms. And other things that go bump in the night.
10. Tell me about your latest book and how it came about.
Didn't we just cover that? Pretty sure we did.
Okay, here's something new:
i started my blog around the same time I started what was then my little halloween story, and named the blog dreamvoyagers 'cause that's who the hero is. sort of. told ya I have a thing for the boys, right?
Y'all come visit now, ya hear?
Enclose the opening of the book around 400 words.
Sorry. Can't give you the very opening opening. (Naughty words and stuff.) But I will give you the close to opening excerpt:
Galloping hoof beats pursued her down the old post road.
Ghostly hoof beats. The legendary Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow.
With deadly purpose.
Faster and faster.
Katy ran on, her sides cramping. Her flip-flops smacked asphalt but the clop of the demonic hooves echoed louder. She clattered into the street as the sidewalk ended, and gasped for air.
A piece of one rubber thong broke and she stumbled, tripping onto the grassy median bordering Sleepy Hollow Cemetery. Her shriek ripped through the quiet suburban village. Utter fatigue claimed her, halting her steps. She collapsed in exhaustion, her sleep-drenched mind blanking as she fell.
Hard-muscled arms scooped her up before she hit the ground. The horse’s unearthly scream ripped through her as the beast thundered past. Her rescuer clasped her against his broad, masculine chest. A familiar glow of warmth stole over her, filling her with a sense of peace and security...
Beneath her ear, a strong heartbeat pulsed, quickening in time to the increased thudding of her own. His autumn scent seduced her as he swept her away, his long-legged strides purposeful and sure. She rested her cheek against his shoulder, her head fitting perfectly in the hollow of his neck. Her fear ebbed, replaced by desire.
A large hand slid over her breasts, her nipples already taut and straining with need against the thin cotton of her dress. She arched into him, rubbing herself against him like a cat in heat, rewarded by his harsh gasp and the ragged hitch in his breathing.
Moments later he carried her into the cemetery, and she felt the soft October earth, rich and spongy, at her back. Large, manly hands made quick work of the few clothes she wore.
“I’m dreaming,” she murmured.
“No. Not this time. Open your eyes.”
Enjoy! (And if you do, you might want to give me a thumbs up on amazon. Hint. Hint. nudge. nudge. nag.nag.nag.)