Please give a warm welcome to Julia from Deadlocked by Dawn by Afton Locke today as we sit down and see what makes her tick.
What’s your favorite thing to do when you’re not saving (the world, clients, your mate)?
First, let me set the record straight. I’m the villain in this story, so I’m definitely not saving the world. I’m not destroying it either. My favorite pastime is pining away for my lost love.
What is it about your love interest (Nathan) that makes you crazy in a good way?
He’s talented, sexy, and famous,
and all mine. I could do without his mother, though. Disapproving old hag,
always giving me the evil eye. Says I’m bad for her son, but if he stays mine,
he’ll have nothing to fear.
Do you sometimes want to strangle your writer? Thrash her/him to within an inch of their life? Make them do the stupid crap they makes you do?
Sometimes. She really didn’t need to expose all my personal secrets
and make me look so twisted. Some scenes were very private, if you know
what I mean. But I’m going to get her back right here and now. You see, I’m her
dark side.
Favorite food?
Tomatoes. Why?
-My story started in a garden.
-They beg to be sliced with a nice sharp knife.
-They’re red…like blood.
Tell me a little bit about your world. What are your greatest challenges in that world?
I’m white and privileged, but the man I love is black. I thought love
was enough, but prejudices in my family and the country took it away.
Describe yourself in four words.
elegant, smart, romantic, misunderstood
What do you do for a living?
Absolutely nothing! I’m an heiress. Unfortunately, money can’t buy
everything.
What do you fear the most?
That no one will love me, but I’m about to remedy that situation.
It’s time to take things into my own hands.
genre: romantic suspense, thriller
blurb:
After 2020, Delia
Sloane struggles to keep Rainbow Falls Resort afloat while grieving the loss of
her father and husband. She refuses to let her Key Largo slice of paradise—a
haven for non-mainstream couples—die. But when a serial killer begins attacking
her guests—leaving a single dreadlock on each victim—everything spins out of
control, including what’s left of her family.
Hides a killer…
After her brother’s
experience with police brutality, the last place she wants to turn to for help
is law enforcement. Scarred mentally by a deadly force incident, Detective Will
Peterson has avoided homicide cases. But only he has the skills to drill into
the elusive killer’s twisted mind.
And it just got
personal…
When a hurricane
strikes, exposing the horrible truth behind Delia’s losses and threatening
everything she holds dear, trusting Will may be her only hope. Are they up to
the challenge?
excerpt (Rated R):
They climbed the metal staircase and arrived at
her door. Her hand trembled as she swiped the card key and opened it.
Will’s eyes looked electric blue in the
semi-darkness, burning into her soul.
“Would you like me to come in?” he asked, his
voice so husky she could barely understand him.
The throbbing magnetic pulse between them was
much easier to comprehend.
She answered by grabbing his hand and pulling
him inside. While he closed the door, she turned on her pineapple-shaped lamp,
nearly knocking it over. She felt as if she swam underwater as he looped his
arms around her waist. She locked her own behind his neck, exploring the crisp
texture of his hair while they kissed again.
His hot tongue explored her mouth, making her
melt at every joint, especially between her legs. The olive pantsuit she wore
seemed to catch fire as her skin ignited with desire. Was it chemistry? Or the
danger?
Stop. They had to stop.
She wrenched her mouth away. “I-I haven’t been
with anyone since Keith.”
“There’s been no one since Amy, either.”
“Then why are we here?” she asked.
He brushed his knuckles down her cheek.
“Because we need each other.”
Maybe if she hadn’t heard about the video of
her father, she wouldn’t be so emotional right now. So vulnerable. It felt as
if a dam had broken inside her, washing away all her control.
Every pain she’d ever suffered bubbled to the
surface—Keith’s drowning, Jamal’s injury and imprisonment, her economic
problems.
The force of it flooded her. Made her grab the
lapels of his blazer and wrench it off. As if joining with him would cure every
pain she’d ever endured. Wildness and pain filled his eyes, too. He grabbed her
hips and slammed them against his pelvis. Against his steel-hard desire.
She kissed him until her lips bruised. Until
the pain mixed with the losses screaming and aching inside her.
“Where’s your bedroom?” he asked, breathing
hard against her cheek.
She cupped her hand over his zipper. “We’re not
going to make it that far.”
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