Monday, January 26, 2015

Breathless Press Lee Brazil Author Day

Please give a warm welcome to author Lee Brazil as we talk about their release, The Ice King, from Breathless Press.

So tell us about your latest or upcoming release. What is this gem about?
The Ice King is a short office romance about two men who are attracted to one another. It's a boss/secretary story.     
How often does your muse distract you from day to day minutiae?
Not as often as I'd like. Maybe the minutiae are louder than they should be sometimes. 
If you could be any paranormal creature what would you be?
Um… gosh. I don't really know. Maybe I'd like to be a were of some sort. Perhaps I'd be a were-cat. I could curl up in sunlight and sleep on windowsills. 
What do you do when you’re not writing?
Writing is my full time job, so if I'm not actually putting words on the page, I feel like I'm slacking. I work out of my own home, so I cook, clean, do laundry, garden and play with my pets. I'm a big music buff, and a book slut as well, so I do a lot of reading and listening to music. I also am totally addicted to Top Chef, so I watch that frequently.
Are any of your characters like you?
I think all of them are a bit like me. We can't help putting what we know into our stories, you know? 
Do you have a favorite quote from any of your book(s)?
Um… I can't think of anything right now! How about this one? I stole it from this really famous guy…
All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
 If a movie or TV production company chose to produce your books into a series of shows or movies, who would your ideal cast be?
Oh.. another tough one! I'm not very good with the new actors names, but if The Ice King were to be made into a show, I think I'd like Brett Dalton from Marvel Agents of Shield to be Raphael Montaigne, and Elian… I don't know, how about Matthew Atkinson form The Blind Side?

The Ice King
Breathless Press
Contemporary MM
Available at Publisher
CPA Rafe Montaigne's day is heading downhill fast and he hasn't even had a decent cup of coffee yet. What could make it worse? A secretary in a snit.
CPA Rafe Montaigne's day is heading downhill fast and he hasn't even had a decent cup of coffee yet. What could make it worse? A secretary in a snit.
Elian is efficient, attractive and cold as ice toward his boss, and he has been since Rafe's ex stopped by the office.
Rafe is a sophisticated player, a businessman who knows how to have fun and he's not particular about whether his playmates are male or female.
It seems Elian isn't quite so indiscriminate… What's a boss to do when his secretary won't play nice?
 The clack of computer keys signaled Elian's return to his desk, and Raphael grimaced as he realized he'd have to pass by that judgmental stare, those assessing eyes, to get to his own desk and the coffee. Should have taken the opportunity while the man talked to his plants to dash to his inner sanctum. He'd planned to be early, but one fiasco followed another, and of course, super secretary beat his ass to the office again. He ran a hand through his curly black hair, trying to make sure it was semi neat. Glanced down to check his clothes before he caught himself. Fuck. He was drenched to the skin. There was no way he looked like anything but a drowned rat. Who was the boss anyway?
He pushed open the heavy wood door that boasted Montaigne and Associates - though really, it was just him and Elian - and breezed through to the inner sanctum. The room was blessedly cool after the humid heat of the outdoors, and Elian had turned on the peaceful music he favored. Rafe made to step past Elian, whose gaze was focused on his computer screen.
Immediately the typing stopped, and the long elegant fingers fell into his lap. Rafe found his gaze locked on those hands, such soft, strong hands. Every nail was buffed to the perfect shine, trimmed to the perfect length, shaped by God into a perfect oval of healthy pink. He swallowed. He could nearly feel those nails digging into his muscles, scraping down his back, leaving fiery trails of sensation to burn their way to his groin.
"Your messages." Elian's icy voice jolted him from his fantasy not a moment too soon. Much longer and he would have been embarrassingly aroused, despite the fiasco of his morning.
More bad luck? In the beginning, Elian had addressed him in a much warmer tone. Once, he'd even had a good morning and a how was your evening for his boss. Since that day, though, it had been nothing but the cold shoulder.

About the Author
Somewhere in a small town in up-state New York are a librarian and a second grade teacher to whom I owe my life. That might be a touch dramatic, but it's nevertheless one hundred percent true.
Because they taught me the joy of reading, of escaping into worlds crafted of words.
Have you ever been nine years old and sure of nothing so much as that you don't belong? Looked at the world from behind glasses, and wondered why you don't fit?
Someone hands you a book, and then you turn the page and see... There you are, running from Injun Joe in a dark graveyard; there you are fencing with Athos; there you are...beneath the deep blue sea- marveling at exotic creatures with Captain Nemo.
I found myself between the pages of books, and that is why I write now. It's why I taught English and literature for so many years, and it's why my house contains more pounds of books than furniture.
If I'd had my way, I'd have been a fencer...or a starship captain, or a lawyer, or a detective solving crimes. But instead, I am a writer, and I've come to realize that's the best thing in the world to be, because as a writer, I can be all those things and more.
If I hadn't learned to value the stories between the pages, who knows what would have happened? Certainly not college...teaching...or writing.

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