SS: Hmm, I’d probably say the food. LOL I can’t help it. When the holidays come around, I love being in the kitchen, whipping up all sorts of confections.
NG: What's your favorite Christmas song?
SS: Hands down O Holy Night. I only sing it when I’m alone in my car because it’s such a difficult song to hit the notes, but I love to listen to others sing it.
NG: That's my favorite song too! Real tree or not?
SS: Since I live in an apartment, we’re not allowed to have a real tree, which is okay because I’m allergic to pine LOL
NG: If you could take a trip and visit Christmas past, present or future which would you choose?
SS: Probably Christmas future so I can get all my ducks in a row. The past holds no interest for me and the present is being lived out right now. Good thing I haven’t been visited by ghosts, huh?
NG: Let's talk about A Christmas Interlude. What was the inspiration behind this sexy tale?
SS: Well, it’s different than anything I’ve written before. Sometimes a story wants to be told and a writer has no choice but to tell it. I wanted to explore the darker side of a human sexual relationship while throwing a little paranormal element into the mix.
NG: Did you face any creative challenges while crafting this story?
SS: LOL Besides getting through the multiple love scenes? I think the biggest hurdle for me was trying not to have either character overpower each other. They’re both pretty strong willed and well matched but since it’s set in historical times, the fact they both have appetites outside the norm was interesting as well.
NG: Why do you think readers would enjoy A Christmas Interlude?
SS: Who doesn’t enjoy a short, sexy romp with a werewolf? Honestly, this is a perfect story to make a reader forget about the stress of the holidays and indulge in a hot fantasy for a couple of hours.
NG: Fa la la la! What can readers look forward to seeing from you in 2011?
SS: Oh wow! I have two stories out on submissions right now that are very exciting. I’m hoping they’ll find homes soon. I’m also planning on writing another couple of sci-fi romances, a follow up book to Wedgie Tales and a Regency parody. Big things happening. Keep an eye on my website for new info.
NG: Thanks so much for stopping by, Sandra, may you have a very Merry Christmas!
Caution! Steamy Excerpt Below:
Dangerous secrets can melt a cold winter’s night but are they hot enough to forge common ground?
In 1899 Indianapolis, adventurous sex isn’t exactly appropriate conversation for afternoon tea.
Yet, an exciting sex life is exactly what Chelsea wants desperately from her beau Luther. Tired of society’s strict conventions and his less than inspired fumblings in the bedroom, she devises a plan that is sure to bring Luther’s passions to the forefront.
Luther harbors a dark secret of his own. A werewolf by birth, he’s compelled to shift at each full moon but fears if he shares the knowledge with Chelsea, she’ll run in fear. What he doesn’t count on is her matching his appetites in the bedroom.
One long night of sexual play at a hotel during the Christmas season is all it takes to meet their needs yet will the confidences they keep unravel their love or will it strengthen the relationship as fast as a little light bondage?
As the carriage passed a row of homes, the faint, golden glow of the streetlights illuminated Chelsea’s face. Two spots of rosy color gave life to her rounded cheeks, and her vivid green eyes sparkled with what seemed like contentment, or perhaps happiness.
He wondered what she thought about. It seemed as if she were a million miles away. Not even their favorite dining spot could elicit any animation or conversation from her tonight.
“Did you enjoy the meal?” He repositioned himself until he could openly admire her form. An ivory-colored shawl had slipped from her shoulders, revealing the tops of her full, creamy breasts as they strained against the rich, brown silk of her dinner gown. Heat spiked through his body to lodge in his groin. His cock hardened as he thought about what they would do when they finally arrived at his townhouse, about how the lush curve of her hips would feel, naked, beneath his hands—the perfect Christmas sweet.
At the last second, he remembered to maintain tight control over his baser instincts. Now was not the time to tell her of his furry heritage.
Chelsea turned to face him. A strained smile barely curved her kissable lips, slightly glossy as the tip of her tongue swept briefly along the bottom one. “Dinner was, as always, excellent. I trust your roast beef was rare enough?”
“Actually, the Carlisle has presented the dish better on previous occasions.” His mouth watered at the remembrance of those other meals where the juices ran red with every cut of his knife. Each Saturday, he took Chelsea to dinner at the Carlisle, a hotel in the business district, and he ordered his meat as rare as it could possibly be outside of slaughtering it himself. There was something so primal about digging into a slab of beef that hadn’t been manipulated much by human hands…
This brought his thoughts back to the carnal pleasures he and Chelsea would indulge in mere moments from now, the perfect foil to wrench his mind from his other passion. If he wasn’t fettered by polite manners and stifling rules, he would instruct the driver to continue on a tour of the city until the horse was too tired to walk another step. The extra time he’d use to ravish his woman in the cab, hopefully making certain she was well and truly satisfied.
Yet, he held back. Three years with Chelsea had given his life meaning, enriched it to the point that he yearned to spend the remainder of his time on the earth with her, but the simple fact he was born to be a werewolf whenever the moon grew full hampered any hope of a normal, happy existence. At the first glimpse of fur and fang, she would demand the local authorities come and take him away to the nearest mental facility.
Hell, she might swat at him with a broom. Chelsea, in the height of annoyance, was capable of doing nearly anything.
Still, deep in his soul, he knew she was the one woman meant for him, so why couldn’t he lower his pride and reveal all? He lifted a hand and stroked her cheek. Her skin, petal soft against his fingers, stoked the flames already ignited within and created an inferno of need.
He held back out of fear, out of rejection. He would die if he lost Chelsea—not because she held the key to his very existence, but simply because he loved her too much to make her afraid of him.
He was a shape shifter and had been since birth, but also, his sexual needs and appetite far surpassed that of a normal human man. His deepest desires would frighten her. She’d accuse him of depravity of the darkest criminal, yet that knowledge didn’t lessen the constant ache for her companionship and her as a sexual partner. She was too good, too wholesome for anything more risqué in the bedroom than gentle lovemaking.
Luther swallowed down the build-up of hot saliva in his mouth. Oh God, what he wouldn’t do to feel her lips wrapped around his cock as he thrust into her mouth.
This time, he couldn’t control the groan that escaped his throat. In order to keep Chelsea, he would need to content himself with mild sexual encounters, keep the mild-mannered persona for the rest of his life. And what was more, he would need to pretend he was satisfied with that lot.
She could never know his true nature. Above all else, he wanted to keep her.
The carriage lurched sharply to the right as the driver turned a corner. The abrupt motion threw Chelsea into his lap. Unable to help himself, he lifted her and repositioned her legs until she awkwardly straddled him with her skirts bunched between them. “That color of gown suits you, Chelsea. You should wear it more often.” He cupped her cheek, sliding his hand down, and brushed he pad of his thumb over her collarbone. When he felt a host of tremors course through her body, he decided to find out how far she’d let him take her.
He pressed his lips to the bare skin of her décolletage. “You taste like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.” Pausing for a mere second, he licked the swell of first one breast then the other. He slid his hands to her waist and moved them slowly up until he cupped her breasts. Her nipples pebbled into tight buds beneath her gown, hard and ready for him. Lowering his mouth to one of the ripe offerings, he closed his lips around the fabric-covered tip, teasing slightly with his teeth. A low moan eased between her lips and a shudder shook her shoulders. She stiffened on his lap.
Immediately, Luther released her. “I apologize, Chelsea.” He dumped her onto the bench beside him, his chest heaving as he struggled with his instincts. “I cannot explain what came over me.”
“That was…different, Luther. Um, did you, uh, mean to do that?” Unknown emotion wobbled her voice, but she did not glance his way. Instead, she kept her gaze firmly fixed on the opposite window.
Oh God, she hates me. “I must be mad.” He pressed himself as close to the side of the carriage as he could get, anywhere in order not to touch her. She tempted him like no other woman. He’d make the sacrifice, bury his animal side beneath lies to keep her.
Yet… Inhaling deeply, the sweet, distinctive scent of her obvious arousal gave him hope. Maybe in time…
A Christmas Interlude is available now with
Purple Sword Publications, Amazon
and All Romance e-books.
Purple Sword Publications, Amazon
and All Romance e-books.
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