Alisha: Please welcome T. Harrison to my blog today. She's an erotic romance author currently living in the south with her impish husband, two smallish men and one smallish boxer pup. She can often be found with her nose pressed to the screen of her Kindle, reading red hot erotica, nail biting thrillers or bone chilling horror and paranormals by the small halo of illumination created by her book light. She writes to stave off the boredom of living in a small town. Her stories generally fluctuate from urban/contemporary to paranormal romance but, are always dirty.
T. Harrison: Thanks for having me, Alisha! And hello to all of your blog readers! *waves*
I’ve always been a writer. I know all writers say that but, it’s usually true. I just didn’t know that I was a romance writer until recently. My mother, grandmother and great-grandmother watched a lot of soap operas. They called them ‘stories’. “Hush now, my stories are on!” was a common admonishment during the noon hour. Young and the Restless, Bold and the Beautiful and Guiding Light. These shows were my first exposure to the romance genre. All those longing looks, heated embraces and passionate kisses marked my young mind in a way that wouldn’t come to full fruition until much, much later but, they definitely shaped the way stories bloomed in my mind.
I didn’t write my first full length novel until much later and when I wrote it, I was sure I would get published. It didn’t happen. I queried and edited--queried and edited again and still racked up more rejections than I did contracts. Pretty soon, I began to get discouraged. Who wouldn’t? Insanity is repeating the same behavior expecting a different outcome and writing is definitely a form of insanity. So I stopped writing for a while, enrolled in some online classes and entertained the idea of getting a 9 to 5.
Right around this time, e-publishing began to really kick off. People have been reading books on their computers for years but, suddenly it was a more respected avenue of publishing. Kindles were becoming more popular and the Nook debuted at Barnes and Noble. Everyone was talking about e-books and how they were turning the publishing world upside down. This seemed like the right time to try and get published again so I began to research e-publishers. But a strange thing happened during those Google searches. Names like Joe Konrath and Amanda Hocking and H.P. Mallory kept appearing in the search results. And these brave souls were not only e-publishing but, self-publishing. I began to wonder if this was something I could do.
When I spoke to my friends and relatives about it, they all said it was a great idea. They’ve all been reading my stories for years and were convinced that this would be the best way to get my work out there. I wasn’t convinced. I decided to publish some of my shorter works, LoveWanderLust and The Undoing of Langston Black, while I continued to query my novel length works to traditional publishers. I received a few requests for partials but, still no requests for the full manuscript but, my little self-pubbed books were selling. I made a little cash from them and I also received enough feedback to let me know that my writing wasn’t hopeless and there were people out there who would read and love my stories. So, after receiving yet another rejection, I decided to jump into self-publishing with both feet and the result is my new release, In Her Closet! It features an unconventional romance heroine, a yummy hero and a cast of fun and sexy secondary characters. I hope you all will come to love them as much as I have.
Thanks again for having me and don’t forget to comment on this post for your chance to win a Kindle!
Blurb
Fresh off of a night of anonymous sex we join Yves Santiago on the curb for a cigarette. Yves is a self-proclaimed slut who vows to live her life as carelessly as a man and make no apologies for any of it--though her meddling mother and ex-fiancé seem intent on making it difficult for her to do so. She’s determined to avoid anything that looks even remotely like love and escapes most encounters with her heart and her pride intact.
Then she meets Elijah Weinstein…
Elijah saunters in like a dream proclaiming to be the next great love of her life--a declaration that Yves finds ridiculous, though it doesn't make him any less enticing. With his mossy green eyes, broad, sun-kissed shoulders and a mouth so sensual that it should have an NC-17 rating, Elijah Weinstein is damn near irresistible. She willingly accepts his challenge, certain she will be able to get what she wants without relinquishing her heart.
Excerpt
I dress casually for my evening at the Erotic Literary Salon. I’m excited about this meeting with Elijah Weinstein but, I don’t want to make too big a deal of it. I don’t believe in fairy tales, romantic or otherwise, so I’m always careful not to get my hopes too high. So in my favorite Bob Marley t-shirt and yummy ripped jeans, I sit down at my usual table and settle in to listen to the poets and wordsmiths until it’s my turn to take the stage.
I have no idea what Elijah Weinstein looks like. He told me that he would be wearing a green polo shirt. I scan the room but, I don’t see a Jewish guy in a green polo shirt. He’s late or maybe he just changed his mind all together.
“Now calling the poet Yves Santiago.”
I wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans and make my way to the stage. Reading my poetry in front of a crowd still makes me nervous even though I’ve been doing it for years.
“Good evening,” My voice bounces off the back wall and I hate the way it sounds when it makes its way back to me. Any other time I fancy that it sounds deep and sultry but, up here it sounds high and nervous.
“This is more of a ramble than a poem. I call it ‘Sleek and Tawny’.”
I clear my throat, close my eyes and take a deep cleansing breath.
“She’s lost all the parts of her that were pretty.
Her shine and nubile beauty wore off long ago.
Rubbed off--rubbed raw by men.
She’s nothing sweet anymore.
She’s something feral,
something wild.
Sleek and tawny, un animal.
Something constantly in search of something--
someone to devour.
She sees her prey and when he passes her way
the scent of him enlivens her.
She pursues him because in this moment, he
is what she needs.
What she hungers for.
That tender morsel she draws across her teeth
hungrily…
But when her passion is spent
she remains discontent
until a hint of some other succulent scent
rattles her cage.”
I open my eyes. A wave of satisfaction washes over me from the appreciative smiles of the crowd. “Thank you,” I murmur, backing away from the microphone to a chorus of whoops and applause.
A man approaches me as I walk back to my table. Mmm, tasty, I think as he offers me a smile.
“Yves Santiago?”
“Yes?”
“I’m Elijah Weinstein.”
I'm barely able to keep my mouth from dropping open. This is Elijah Weinstein? Elijah Weinstein is gorgeous. Fuck gorgeous. He is damn fine. He reaches for my hand and shakes it, holding on for far longer than is necessary for a greeting. Our hands sway gently between us--a frizzle of friction forming between our palms.
“Nice to meet you,” I sigh, trying my best to keep from licking my lips.
T. Harrison's Website
Twitter: @dirtyscribbler
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