How's that for an intriguing headline? It's true though. And it's happening right here.
When I found out thriller/horror writer JA Konrath/Jack Kilborn was embarking on a blog tour to promote his new book AFRAID, I jumped at the chance to feature him here. In addition to writing under two different names, Joe also writes one heck of an industry blog--A Newbies Guide to Publishing--a must for all writers.
Whoever he is, Joe/JA/Jack, he's always entertaining. This year he'll be attending the Romantic Times Booklovers Convention. If you're attending, like me, you'll get to meet him! Make sure to attend one of his workshops. The man's a natural-born charmer, er, teacher. You'll also be able to purchase one of his books at Saturday's bookfair. If you ask nice, I bet he'll even sign it. :)
Anyway, I asked Joe why a thriller/horror writer would want to attend a convention that focuses on romantic fiction. His response was entertaining--as I knew it would be. I just wasn't expecting a sexy excerpt from an upcoming book. Um. It's racy. You've been warned. ;)
Take it away , Joe.
* * *
I write thrillers, not romance. I have a Y chromosome. And I'm straight (even though I pinch Barry Eisler's butt whenever I see him.)
So why am I attending the Romantic Times Convention this April?
I write thrillers about a female cop named Jack Daniels, all of which are named after drinks.
I also write horror novels under the name Jack Kilborn. The first one, called AFRAID, comes out in March.
AFRAID has a tiny bit of romance in it, but mostly the book is a scare machine. I tried to write the most frightening book of all time, and many people think I've succeeded. If you think you're woman enough to handle it, I'll be giving away copies (for free) at RT. You can read the first few chapters at www.JackKilborn.com. A warning, though. It's pretty intense.
But that's not the real reason I'm going to RT. The real reason is to show off my sexual abilities.
You see, I just wrote my first sex scene.
It's in my sixth Jacqueline Daniels book, CHERRY BOMB. All the books are named after drinks, and all the books are told from Jack's point of view.
In Cherry Bomb, for the first time in the series, Jack makes love. She does it with a guy she's been friends with in the previous novels. In this scene, the friendship becomes something more. While chasing a killer, they share a bed in a cheap motel room to catch some sleep, no hanky panky at all.
Then morning comes, and it gets complicated.
Here's how the scene begins:
* * *
He touched my back again, and this time I didn’t flinch. But since I’m cursed with the burden of overanalyzing everything, I ruined what could have been a romantic moment by asking, “Why are you here, Phin? Why are you helping me? This isn’t your fight. Am I a diversion? Any port in the storm? A way to kill some time so you don’t have to think about your life?”
Damn my big mouth. If he walked out the door right then, I couldn’t have blamed him.
But he didn’t walk out. He just stared at me. Not angry. But patient. Understanding. And I filled in the blanks. He wasn’t with me because he wanted a little action, or because I helped him take his mind off his problems. He actually cared about me. I saw it in his face. Here was a guy who divorced himself from life, packing his feelings away like winter clothes in the summertime. He worked to keep people out.
And he let me in.
And I realized I wanted that as well.
In one quick motion I billowed up the sheets and cast them off the bed, exposing Phin in his boxer briefs. His body was long and lean and cut, and I wasn’t sure where I wanted to touch him first. I chose his abs, running my hand along his six-pack while sliding alongside him and hooking my leg up over his thigh.
The kiss could have been morning breath bad, but all I tasted was heat. Heat and passion and possibilities that I promised myself would be explored.
His arms encircled me, fingers of one hand running through my hair and tingling my scalp, the over wandering over the back of my sports bra.
I smiled while his tongue probed mine, then pulled slightly away.
“Sports bra,” I said, “no clasps.”
I dug under the elastic, stretched it up over my arms, and he helped me pull the bra over my head and arms. I paused, letting him look at me, drinking in how much he seemed to like the view. Then I grabbed his wrists and put his hands on my breasts.
He rubbed the flat of his palm over my nipples, rolled one between his fingers, tugging on it gently, making it stiffen. Then his arm was around the small of my back and he tugged me next to him, urgent, his mouth on mine.
His lips trailed down past my jaw to my neck, and I locked my legs around the side of his thigh and ground against it, feeling my first jolt of full on arousal, building inside me like a wave. Right then I was ready to go at it. I wanted him in me. Wanted to wrap my legs around his hips and ride him until I made him moan.
Phin had other ideas.
He kissed his way along my neck, sliding his body down next to mine, breaking my leg-lock on him. His arms encircled my hips, hands grasping my ass, and his mouth found my nipples. He caught one in his teeth, held it between them while bathing it with his tongue. I tried to open my legs but he held them together, which drove me a little crazy as he switched from one breast to the other. He was too low for me to touch anything other than his head and back, so I locked my fingers in his blond hair and held on.
His head moved lower, licking my rib cage, my navel, and then slowly, maddeningly, to the top of my red panties. He rested his mouth there, letting my feel his hot breath through the fabric, and then began to kiss.
I moved my arms down, trying to help him tug my panties off, but he held my wrists and wouldn’t let me, continuing my move his mouth and jaw over my pubic mound, up and down and in small circles until it felt ready to catch fire.
I tried to fight him, wanted to end the foreplay and flip him over and straddle his face and let him devour me. I pressed up against his mouth, but he moved his face away each time I did. Even though the panties stayed on, even though he deliberately avoided hitting the right spots, I felt the orgasm welling up. And then I understood what he was doing, other than teasing me.It was okay to not be in control.I moaned, turned my head to the side, took a corner of the pillow in my mouth and let him have his way.
* * *
So that's how it begins. After that, things start to get a little hot.
The reason I'm going to RT is so I can read the entire scene, aloud, to romance writers and fans, and hopefully learn how to get better at doing these type of scenes. If you want to learn how to become a violin virtuoso, you go to a Juilliard. If you want to find out how to do effective love scenes, you go where the experts are.
Romantic Times, April 22-26, Orlando.
Hope to see some of you there. I'll be the guy passing out free horror novels.
* * *
Beth here. I'd like to thank Joe for stopping by this romance novelist's blog. (Does know his target audience, or what?)
BONUS! I'll be giving away a copy of FUZZY NAVEL (the 5th book in his thriller Jack Daniels series) to one lucky, randomly chosen person. All you have to do to be eligible is comment!