Release Day Author Spotlight: Farrah Rochon

Hey Hey Hey,

Happy Friday, folks! 😎 I’ve got a special treat for you. A release day post featuring none other than Farrah Rochon! Yesterday, she had an exclusive cover reveal on Book Riot for her upcoming novel, The Boyfriend Project (check out the cover and read the first chapter here). Today, she’s re-releasing an anthology of holiday novellas initially published by Harlequin Kimani Romance. *in my Rihanna voice* Farrah out here doing big tings! Get to know a little more about this superstar and read an excerpt!

I always find author interviews kind of boring. We only get to see one side of an author, the polite side. If you had an evil doppelganger, what detail about you would they enjoy revealing to the public that people would find surprising and possibly questionable?

My doppelganger would reveal that I’m not as sweet as I appear. Of course, my age is starting to reveal that more and more everyday. 


Finish this sentence: I have the power to _______.

Say no without apologizing.

Who is the most supportive person in your life when it comes to your writing?

I have four—my critique group. We’ve been together for 17 years and I can always count on them.

What musician do you find yourself listening to the most right now?

Does the original Broadway cast of Dear Evan Hansen count as “a” musician? *Harper interjecting here* SURE DOES! #nojudgment

What’s your favorite book that’s an emotional roller coaster?

Judith McNaught’s Whitney, My Love.


Would you rather have a rewind button or a pause button in your life?

Depends on where I am. I’d love to press pause whenever I’m on vacation. When I’m not on vacation, I want to rewind back to a time when I was on vacation.

As a child, what’s the first movie you remember going to see in the theater?

Song of the South (yikes!)

Would you rather only be able to have sex in five minute increments for the rest of your life, or… only be able to have sex for five hour increments?

Minutes. Who has that kind of time? *Me rn @ this answer: 😂*


If you had superpowers, would you prefer to be a shape-shifter or a mind reader?

Shape-shifter! Because then I can be a fly on the wall of all the places I’ve wanted to be a fly on the wall.

What do you enjoy so much that it makes you happy just to think about?

Relaxing on a Disney Cruise ship. 


**Bonus Question**

Ever tried BDSM? If not, would you?

Nope, not answering that. Refer to answer #2. *insert sweet smile* 😊



Excerpt from Tuscan Nights, in the Christmas Kisses anthology:

Chapter One

Aiden Williams buried his chin deeper into his wool scarf as he shifted from one foot to the other on the cobblestones in front of Forno Leoncini. Cursing himself for leaving his gloves in the car, he blew into his cupped hands before shoving them in the pockets of his corduroys.

What had previously been a light snowfall had gained strength over the last few minutes, the thick flakes swirling around him as the wind kicked up. He knew he couldn’t stand out here forever, but he wasn’t ready to make his presence known. Not yet.

Despite the cold, his skin grew hot as he peered through the bakery’s garland-framed windowpane. His eyes focused on the woman standing before a rectangular stone table, her flour-covered fist punching a ball of dough. The last time he’d seen her in the flesh, she was standing in a church vestibule, wearing a wedding gown, preparing to marry his older brother, Cameron.

Three years later, Aiden was still conflicted over how he felt about Cameron being a no-show for his own wedding. On the one hand, he was grateful he had not been forced to endure years of seeing Nyla and his brother living as man and wife. Aiden doubted he would have been able to stomach it, knowing that she was only pretending.

Yet Cameron’s decision to stand her up at the altar had been the catalyst that prompted Nyla’s hasty move to Europe. She’d left Atlanta a week after the aborted nuptials and had not been back since.

But here she was, a mere twenty feet away. And she was as sexy as ever. More gorgeous than he remembered, if that was even possible.

Aiden turned up his coat collar as the snow began to fall in earnest. Uncertainty, entwined with a heavy dose of nervousness, kept him rooted where he stood, just outside the warm glow cast by the bakery’s interior lights. He was unsure how Nyla would react to him tracking her down to this small town tucked away in the hills of the Siena region in Tuscany.

He’d debated the entire drive here whether to contact her but decided against giving Nyla any notice. Aiden was convinced she’d make an excuse for why he shouldn’t come, just as she had done the previous three times he’d suggested they meet in the month since he’d been in Zurich, Switzerland, consulting on an IT project for a worldwide banking giant.

No, he wasn’t giving her a chance to back out this time. He’d come too far to find her—he’d crossed a damn ocean—a job he only accepted because it brought him to Europe.

Yet Aiden still couldn’t bring himself to take these last few steps. Because worse than having Nyla make excuses about why she couldn’t see him would be to have her flat-out reject him to his face.

His gut clenched with a sharp ache. Nyla wouldn’t do that.

Even though she had.

Aiden mentally blocked the words she’d spoken the last time he saw her face-to-face, as he had more times than he could count over the past three years. He never believed them anyway. Guilt and fear had forced her to say the things she’d said that day. He knew what was in Nyla’s heart.

Which was why, when she mentioned on Facebook that she would be spending Christmas alone, he canceled his nonstop flight to Atlanta and rented a car instead. He’d made the six-and-a-half-hour drive from Zurich to San Gimignano, Italy, in just under eight hours. If not for the snow, which he’d never driven in before, and the road signs written in a language he didn’t understand, he would have been here much sooner.

Once he’d made the decision to finally go to her, Aiden couldn’t get here fast enough. Now he just needed to take this final step.

Not yet.

His eyes remained focused on Nyla as she labored over the dough, punching it down, flipping it over and reshaping it. Memories of the countless hours he’d spent perched on the kitchen counter at his parents’ home, or—later, as they became closer—at Nyla’s house in Kirkwood, watching her do this very same thing, had his chest tightening with a mercifully sweet ache.

His favorite fantasy of all time was imagining Nyla coming to him, sweaty from the kitchen heat, with that sexy smile that used to curve up the corner of her mouth. She would crook her finger and he would obey. He would take her then and there, on the kitchen table, up against the counter. Anywhere he damn well pleased.

Aiden shut his eyes against the onslaught of wanting that crashed through him.

Why had he let her pretend that the attraction between them was one-sided? Why had he let her get away without fighting for her?

None of that mattered anymore. She was here now, and Aiden wasn’t letting her get away.

He straightened his spine.

He hadn’t come all this way to stare at Nyla through a window. He’d come with one goal in mind, to convince her that he was the Williams brother she should have been with all along.

“You can do this,” he whispered.

He had to do this. He was tired of living without her.

Aiden sucked in a deep breath of the frigid air, opened the bakery’s front door and walked inside.


Bio:

USA Today Bestselling author Farrah Rochon hails from a small town just west of New Orleans. She has garnered much acclaim for her Holmes Brothers, New York Sabers, Bayou Dreams and Moments in Maplesville series. The two-time RITA® Award finalist has also been nominated for an RT BOOKReviews Reviewers Choice Award, and in 2015 received the Emma Award for Author of the Year.

When she is not writing in her favorite coffee shop, Farrah spends most of her time reading, cooking, traveling the world, visiting Walt Disney World, and catching her favorite Broadway shows.


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Get yourself set up for holiday reading by activating your one-click finger and purchasing Christmas Kisses.


Author Spotlight: Dahlia DeWinters

Hey Folks,

Happy Monday!

It feels like I blinked and these last nine months sped by! It’s hard to believe the last quarter of the year kicks off tomorrow. You know what that means, right? TIME TO CONQUER SOME YEAR END GOALS! I’m in the process of crossing things off my massive to-do list and making serious progress. For the next three months, I am selfishly focusing on me, but please know if I owe you something, you are definitely on the massive to-do list. I’M GETTING EVERYONE SQUARED AWAY! Sending all the pumpkin spice filled good luck to those of you in the same boat trying to end the year on a good note. Let’s👏 get👏 it👏 done👏!

Full disclosure: Dahlia was interviewed some time ago before my self-imposed year-long blog hiatus. I thank her for being patient while I took my time getting things back on track (the deets on that are still to come in a lengthy post scheduled for October). In any case, you should get to know her; she’s an incredibly cool lady!


I always find author interviews kind of boring. We only get to see one side of an author, the polite side. If you had an evil doppelganger, what detail about you would they enjoy revealing to the public that people would find surprising and possibly questionable?

First of all, if my doppelganger is really evil, then folks better watch out. The first she would say, the evil thing, is that I read Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier fan-fiction. Not sure if that’s super questionable, but, yeah.

How important is word of mouth (online and IRL) when it comes to supporting women-led small businesses?

It’s very important, and I think, more important than paid advertisement. Word of mouth is true endorsement. Nothing sells a product or a service better than the testimonial of a person who has actually used the product or service.  

Do you have a writing mentor? 

Yes, I do have a writing mentor/accountability partner. Although we just “met” a month ago, Taige Crenshaw has changed my writing life for the absolute better.  

What’s the most unbelievable thing that has ever happened in the history of mankind that makes it difficult to grasp the reality that the event occurred?

The election of our current president. ‘Nuff said.

What was your mindset back in high school?

Honestly, my mindset was to try to be everyone’s friend. A real people pleaser. Now? Not so much. In fact, not at all.

When was the last time you embraced your kid like wonder and went exploring?

Because I have children, this makes it easy to do. I took them down to the “brook” where I used to go as a child. They, of course, were a little unimpressed, but I was glad I went, and hopefully, they’ll remember it!

If you had to do something differently as a child or teenager to become a better writer as an adult, what would you do?

I would believe in my writing more. Instead of dismissing it as “a fad,” I would have finished a story and sent it off somewhere. Right now, I feel like I’m playing catch-up!

What was the last five-star Romance you read?

Wow. The last five-star romance I read? I can’t choose! *Harper here, LOL total cop-out answer btw*

If you could have your own reality TV show, what would it be?

Shirtless men in a piano-playing competition. Categories: Classical, Jazz, and mid-20th century American Songbook. Tie-breaking Category: 80s music.

If you were immortal for a day, what would you do?

Probably try that DeathWish coffee and three espresso shots.

**Bonus Question**

Ever tried BDSM? If not, would you?

Yes. Now, if I were a top or bottom, that’s a story for another day. 😉


Bio:

Dahlia DeWinters was born to run, but she’s too tired for all of that now. Instead of debating the politics of dancing, she writes multi-genre stories that celebrate the Black woman in all her diverse beauty. Her work ranges from sentimental romances to dark zombie epics. Whatever the story, there will always be a unique heroine in the eye of the storm. Sometimes she will be the storm. Coffee, music, and movies keep her motivated, along with the occasional purchase of mascara and lipstick. In her spare time, she enjoys digital graphic design, crocheting and of course, reading. 


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Author Spotlight: Olivia Dade

Hey Party People! 😁

It’s been a LONG time since I updated this blog. A WHOLE DARN YEAR TO BE EXACT. Yiiiiiiiiiiiiiikes. There will be an extended blog post coming up within the next few weeks updating you all on what’s been going on with me and why I’ve been absent with posting. In the meantime, allow me to get back on track by introducing you to a fabulous lady (emphasis on FAB). 

If you don’t know Olivia Dade, you’re missing out on pure unadulterated joy. Don’t believe me? Keep reading! 


What is the biggest culture shock you’ve experienced since moving to Sweden?

I could expound all day on the Swedish love for pastries (vast and delicious) and tendency to put béarnaise sauce on pizza (troubling, very troubling), but in all seriousness: The realization that what I once considered my strengths are now my weaknesses has been hard. In the U.S., I handled most paperwork and logistical issues for our family, and I literally make my living from my love and knowledge of English. In Sweden, I don’t know how things are supposed to work, and not feeling comfortable with the language is a real barrier. Please don’t misunderstand: My ability to move here was and is a privilege, and I love so much about Sweden. But the adjustment is hard sometimes. Even if I avoid béarnaise-tastic pizzas. Which I do, commitedly.  ::shudders::

What’s your favorite musical instrument, and why?

Electric guitar! In key ways, I’m still a child of the ’80s, rocking out to a guitar solo as my bangs feather majestically in the wind.

Would you rather only be able to have sex in a room full of bugs or no sex at all ever? 

My plan: befriend the bugs, make them all little blindfolds and/or a hangout spot in a corner with a tiny flat-screen TV, thus keeping them otherwise occupied during Olivia’s Bug-Free Intimate Moments.

What’s the worst thing your parents caught you doing as a kid?

For a brief time, I made the most embarrassing, dad-joke-esque prank calls of all time. There were inquiries as to whether someone’s refrigerator was running (“you should go and catch it!”), and, of course, jokes better suited for elderly Victorians than a seven-year-old: “Do you have Prince Albert in a can? Then you’d better let him out!”

Yeah. I was definitely a super-cool kid, as you can see.

Waffles, pancakes, or French Toast? *I want you to know I judge how people answer this, Olivia!*

Ask Mia Sosa about my apple-sour cream pancakes! They are my crowning achievement in the breakfast food arts!

How long does it usually take you to write a novel?

If I can immerse myself in the story, I can write a novella in several weeks and a full-length novel in a couple of months. If I can’t immerse myself in the story…well…

::sobs quietly:: ::grows old::

In one word, sum up Romancelandia.

For me: transformative.

If you could ask your favorite author (dead or alive) three questions about their writing, writing process, or books, what would they be?

I love Joanna Bourne’s historical romances. LOVE. I think she’s the master of immersing readers in her characters’ points of view. I was lucky enough to see her speak about the topic several years ago, and she also has lots of useful writing information on her website, so if I saw her in person once more, I’d probably ask the following questions:

1. Do you agree that your amount of talent simply isn’t fair to other authors?

2. Is there any scientific and/or medical way to transfer some of that talent to me?

3. Why not, dammit?

If you had a signature dance move, what would you call it? 

The Awkward-but-Enthusiastic Flail.™

Finish this sentence: The secret to a happy marriage is ______.

Selective hearing? 

👀 *LOL, the emoji is a Harper addition, I couldn’t help myself*

Okay, my real answer: emotional generosity on both sides and admiration for one another. The ability to laugh together, even after many years and on a hard, hard day, is a definite plus too. (Mr. D makes me laugh all the time. Even on purpose, usually!)


Bio:

While I was growing up, my mother kept a stack of books hidden in her closet. She told me I couldn’t read them. So, naturally, whenever she left me alone for any length of time, I took them out and flipped through them. Those books raised quite a few questions in my prepubescent brain. Namely: 1) Why were there so many pirates? 2) Where did all the throbbing come from? 3) What was a “manhood”? 4) And why did the hero and heroine seem overcome by images of waves and fireworks every few pages, especially after an episode of mysterious throbbing in the hero’s manhood?

Thirty or so years later, I have a few answers. 1) Because my mom apparently fancied pirates at that time. Now she hoards romances involving cowboys and babies. If a book cover features a shirtless man in a Stetson cradling an infant, her ovaries basically explode and her credit card emerges. 2) His manhood. Also, her womanhood. 3) It’s his “hard length,” sometimes compared in terms of rigidity to iron. 4) Because explaining how an orgasm feels can prove difficult. Or maybe the couples all had sex on New Year’s Eve at Cancun.

During those thirty years, I accomplished a few things. I graduated from Wake Forest University and earned my M.A. in American History from the University of Wisconsin-Madison. I worked at a variety of jobs that required me to bury my bawdiness and potty mouth under a demure exterior: costumed interpreter at Colonial Williamsburg, high school teacher, and librarian. But I always, always read romances. Funny, filthy, sweet—it didn’t matter. I loved them all.

Now I’m writing my own romances with the encouragement of my husband and daughter. I have my own stack of books in my closet that I’d rather my daughter not read, at least not for a few years. I can swear whenever I want, except around said daughter. And I get to spend all day writing about love and iron-hard lengths. 

So thank you, Mom, for perving so hard on pirates during my childhood. I owe you.


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