A Few of My Favorite Things- Getting to know the authors of Breathless Press
Hi, we're here this morning with Téa Cooper author of The Protea Boys.
What's your favorite thing about writing?
Being able to make life turn out the way I want it to.
Most writers are also readers. What's your favorite book?
That’s a really difficult question – I have a library full of books, some of them are my childhood story books. I cannot throw books away. Can I have more than one favourite? The Lord of the Rings, Gone with the Wind, The Thornbirds and Shakespeare. If you think it is a strange mixture – come and check out the library (which used to be a garage!).
Everyone reaches a point where they are at an impasse and need to do something besides write for a while. What's your favorite activity to clear your head?3.
I live on a hundred acres, ninety-five of them are virgin bush. I love to wander around there with the wildlife and native plants and rocks—the most amazing rocks! The thought I might be standing in a spot no-one else has ever stood blows my mind!!
It's Friday night (Yes, I know it's Wednesday morning, bear with me, please!) What's your favorite way to unwind after a long week?.
Share a meal and a bottle of Hunter red with friends.
Plain and simple - your favorite hero and why?
Rick Blaine in Casablanca (my other favourite movie/see below!) because he’s such a bad guy and such a hero…Rick makes Ilsa get on the plane to Lisbon with her husband, telling her that she would regret it if she stayed with him: "Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life.” Sob!
Here's a lightning round-
Invisible Tattoo – Sharon Robinson
Any band Eric Clapton played in…
Genre of fiction?
Historical, contemporary, fantasy. Same as the books I can’t do one I’m afraid.
Africa. “I'm with you because I choose to be
with you. I don't want to live someone else's idea of how to live. Don't ask me
to do that. I don't want to find out one day that I'm at the end of someone
Pillar box red and cobalt blue (depending on my mood).
Australian seafood – any or all of it!
English breakfast tea, flat white coffee and a glass of wine (in that order.)
Dark chocolate – nothing else.
Not big on TV although currently I’m a trifle besotted by The Voice (the Australian version).
BerkelouWBooks It is AMAZING. Check it out http://berkelouw.com.au/stores/book-barn
The Protea Boys by Téa Cooper
Georgie can run but she can't hide from the man who stalks her dreams and throws her ordered life into a tailspin.
Emotional entanglement is not on George Martin's to do list. She has turned her back on her sophisticated Sydney lifestyle, determined to renovate her parents old flower farm and her shattered ego. However the challenges prove more than she bargained for until a madcap scheme comes to fruition and The Protea Boys are born. The team of efficient, well-tapered six-packs solve her farming problems, but their leader presents a different kind of challenge—their first spark of attraction ignites a passion she cannot ignore.
Tom Morgan likes his women “pretty and entertaining,” not “efficient and driven," but the threat of being co-opted as a wine waiter or worse, chef in his brother’s restaurant encourages him to take up what he sees as the highly amusing challenge of managing The Protea Boys. It is the perfect distraction while he waits for a new assignment—or so he thinks until he realizes he has found the one woman he cannot run away from.
Digital Edition: $4.99 | ISBN: | Length: 49,000 words
Ebook Page Count: | Publication Date: May 3, 2013 | PDF – MOBI – EPUB |Heat rating 2 (Monogamous couples. Infrequent loves scenes with no graphic language.)
Copyright 2013, Téa Cooper
All rights reserved, Breathless Press.
A nonchalant silhouette leaning against the side of the black four-wheel drive came into view. Tall and lean, with an Akubra pulled down shadowing his eyes and arms folded across his chest. As Georgie slammed to a halt, he pushed his hat back and winked at her.
"What are you doing here?" she snapped.
Shit, not a very polite way to greet someone.
It was a trick. Hillary had played a huge trick on her.
"Good morning, Georgina." His laconic drawl made the hairs on her arms prickle, and his gaze ran up and down the length of her body; she stopped herself from rubbing her arms just in time. At least six feet four inches of pure muscle and screaming masculinity. The mere sight of him made her hackles rise. This was not one of her ridiculous dreams. She groped around, trying to find something to say, but he offered no help, just kept looking her up and down, waiting patiently.
"I didn't know it was you," she managed to splutter.
"You didn't know what was me?" he said, green eyes sparkling at her. She wanted to slap the ridiculous, audacious grin off his face. He was enjoying every moment of her discomfort.
"Hillary didn't say it was you." She ground the words out between her gritted teeth.
"Hillary didn't exactly say it was you either—but I guessed."
The whole conversation, if you could call it that, got more idiotic by the moment.
Take control. I have to take control.
Blood pounded somewhere inside her head. "So you're here to work, not just making a social call?" She narrowed her eyes, unable to be civil.
"I'm under the impression I'm starting work today. Hillary said you were expecting me, and I should turn up at seven o'clock this morning." He stared pointedly at his watch, accentuating his deliciously muscled forearm. " It's five to, by my reckoning."
"I didn't know it was you." Georgie's brain had stuck, like an old, scratched CD, the phrase stuttered in her head, and she couldn't stop it falling out of her mouth. "I didn't know it was you. Hillary said your name was Morgan."
"It is. Morgan, Tom Morgan." He enunciated the words as though she had a limited command of English.
In an attempt to restrain the recurring urge to hit him, Georgie clenched her fists.
"Remember? I introduced myself after our little adventure with the wombat last week."
How could she forget? She involuntarily moved her finger to her lips, unsure for a moment if her memory of his kiss was real or not, but the glimmer in his eye assured her it was, and she pulled her hand from her face and stuffed it into her pocket.
"Then we spoke on the phone."
"Yes. I remember. It's just I didn't know it was you Hillary had interviewed."
You're burbling, talking nonsense.
Hillary had said his name was Morgan, and she hadn't put two and two together. She dreamed—not dreamed, no, he didn't need to know about her dreams—of him as Tom.
Tom of the predatory green eyes with tawny flecks.
Mr. Leopard Eyes who was watching her with a deal more than a glint of amusement. She sucked in a deep breath and exhaled, enjoying the exasperated puffing sound escaping her lips. Her flesh shivered despite the warmth in her face.
"I can go if you like. It's not a problem. I was looking forward to the job. Thought it would be a challenge working for two lovely ladies."
That's it. That's done it. The patronizing sexist.
She clenched her teeth to prevent the words escaping. Sometime in the not-too-distant future she would explain to this man that she was running the business and she employed him—not the other way around. She'd played this game before, and she had no intention of falling into the trap again.
About the Author
Téa writes contemporary and historical romantic fiction featuring strong-minded women and sexy Australian men. Love and life Down Under isn't always easy. Her heroes and heroines have to fight long and hard for what they believe in before they reach their happy ever after.
The Protea Boys is Téa's second Australian contemporary romance and her third Passionfruit & Poetry will be published in mid 2013. She is currently working on a series of nineteenth century historical romances set in Sydney and the Hunter Valley. The first two, Lily's Leap and Matilda's Freedom, will be released in May and July 2013.
To keep up with all of Téa's news visit her website www.teacooperauthor.com where you will find links to her blog and social media pages.