Feel free to post any questions or comments in the Comments area below the interview!
Tell us a little about yourself.
I dabbled a bit with writing in my younger days, but completely lost touch with my creative side as the years zipped by. I’ve spent the last decade in a dark room with naked people … giving massages. I love my clients dearly, but it’s rough just listening to problems and fixing the physical manifestations of those problems without any outlet of my own. Writing became that outlet. I picked up my laptop in 2015 and started typing. It’s much cheaper than therapy lol.
Knowing what you know now, what would you do differently if you had to start over again?
I would be more organized! I’m a bit of a mess and I’m terribly slow, possibly the slowest writer on the planet. My fellow authors have been extremely helpful with their advice on how to increase my production. You really do meet the nicest people in this business. I would also pay more attention to trends and network better. Oh, and practice more with social media or hire a fifth grader who probably knows more about computers than I do.
Other than famous authors and industry professionals, who inspires you to write?
Anyone and everyone. Seriously. It’s the people and little moments I witness daily that work their way into my stories. One day I saw a ridiculously sexy guy in the hair salon across the hall from my office and did a little recon to find out more about him. His name was Scott and he owned a Harley. Sold! Scott got his own story. I didn’t even change his name. The stylist told him about my book and now my voice increases by two octaves and I’m reduced to a giggling mess when I pass him in the hall. Oh the dirty things I had him doing in my book. Sigh.
Tell us about your Mistletoe Hollow Shifters. The covers are gorgeous. Who does them for you?
The shifters in Mistletoe Hollow are my favorite imaginary friends. I have so many stories in my head about those lovable characters. Jacqueline Sweet does all my covers. She’s amazing. And patient! I sometimes get a little OCD and she never complains about my wacky demands.
What is it about shifters that have drawn you to writing about them?
I love the creative possibility they offer. My world can be my own just because I make it so and no one can argue. Physical reality gets tossed aside and that is incredibly freeing.
Which of your own books is your favorite and why?
Probably Something Weasel this Way Comes. It felt like Nikolai and Sally were sitting right next to me while I wrote. Even though I was the one creating the story, I was still happy for them … if that makes sense. I have received more fan mail for this book than any other. I have also received the most negative reviews for this one as well. Go figure. It would be wonderful to have everyone love every story, but all I can do is write what moves me and let the review stars fall where they may.
And now for the silly… If you could be stranded somewhere with your favorite book boyfriend, who would be with you, and where would you be? What would you take with you? (no electronics allowed)
I would have to choose Nikolai. He’s a Russian bear shifter who likes to make pancakes and please his woman. Do I need to explain more? I can see us trapped by a snowstorm in some unchartered part of Maine. Entangled limbs and body heat … fabulous. I would take matches and marshmallows. And maybe a Brita water pitcher. Is that too practical? All that Russian bear sex is bound to make us thirsty.
Do you have anything specific that you’d like to say to your readers, or to new readers just finding you?
Thank you for exploring the worlds and characters I’ve created. I hope they help you escape if only for a short while. Your e-mails and posts keep me going when the words escape me. Thank you also for supporting independent authors. We couldn’t do it without you.
What’s in the works for you right now? When can we expect to see it released to the world?
We’d love to see an excerpt of you work. Do you have one you could share?
Oooh yes. Here’s an excerpt from The Vampire Wore Stilettos —
“Hey, Sexy Rexy,” Charlotte called out to the bouncer. “How’s the crowd tonight?”
“Pumped and ready, Miss Charlotte.” He looked her up and down and gave her a wink as she passed. Charlotte thought about using Rex as a temporary donor, but she was almost positive he abused steroids. She had already experienced an accidental “roid rage” after a quick fling with a Russian marathon runner and vowed never to let that happen again. Even the coked out stockbrokers gave her a bit of anxiety. “You are what you eat,” she would remind herself whenever it was time to feed.
“Happy Halloween!” Ivy and Charlotte shouted as they entered the club and pressed their bodies through the rows of people. The best crowds came on this night. They arrived in all sorts of costumes and left their inhibitions at the door. The bass from the music shook through Charlotte’s body as she bobbed to the beat. Just as she reached the main dance floor, a woman with big hair and too much makeup spilled her drink all over her blazer.
“That’s why I wore black,” Charlotte reassured the woman. “Was that a Long Island Iced Tea?”
“How did you know?” The woman smiled broadly, exposing lipstick-stained teeth.
Charlotte motioned towards the bartender to replace the woman’s drink and made her way to the bathroom to soak up some of the liquid from her outfit. She stood near one of the hand dryers and maneuvered her body so the hot air would hit the right spots. When the dryer finished its first cycle, she heard a woman’s voice coming from one of the stalls.
“Sparkle for me, baby. Sparkle,” the drunken voice called out followed by sounds of slurping.
Oh for fuck’s sake. Charlotte bent down to examine the feet under the stalls. Nothing was unusual until she looked beneath the last one on the right and saw a woman crouched on her knees in ripped stockings and cheap shoes. Charlotte groaned when her eyes caught sight of the motorcycle boots standing in front of the kneeling woman. She recognized the skull-shaped harnesses right away.
“Get a room, Julian!” she yelled as she banged on the door. She could hear giggling and the sound of a closing zipper before the stall door opened.
“Happy Halloween, Sissy Poo,” he said while trying to keep the kneeling woman from pawing at his crotch. “Easy, Tina.”
“Who’s Tina?” The woman looked up in confusion; her smeared mascara gave her the appearance of a raccoon.
Julian snapped his fingers to jog his memory. “Brandi! That’s right, Brandi.” He turned to Charlotte and said, “Sissy Poo, Brandi just loooooves vampires.”
“Sparkle,” Brandi said in a long, breathy tone.
“Lovely,” Charlotte said with a look of disgust.
Brandi pointed towards Charlotte’s chest and smiled. “I love your pin.”
“Of course you do,” Charlotte said, removing the trinket as quickly as possible and handing it to her. “It’s yours.”
Brandi tried several times to attach the bat to her revealing blouse but just kept poking herself instead. She gave up, shoving the pin in her pocket before searching the dirty floor for her flimsy fangs. She popped them in without hesitation and yelled, “Blah!” She turned her face away for one moment and the next blah sound was Brandi puking in the toilet.
“Oh fuck,” Julian complained.
“Don’t let those fangs go down the toilet. The last thing we need is a flooded bathroom.” She pulled him aside and whispered, “Maybe you shouldn’t pick your Brandi from the bottom shelf.”
He whispered back, “Bottom shelf Brandi was giving some top shelf head. The women these days sure know how to devour a cock.”
“I’m going to stop you there, or I may be sick just like your friend. Take care of her.”
“Always. I’m not a complete dick.”
“You are always a complete dick? Did I hear that correctly?”
“Haha. Goodbye, Sissy Poo. Enjoy your evening.”
“You too. Don’t forget to sparkle,” she whispered before waving and twirling out the door.
Charlotte squeezed through the asses and elbows lining the hallway and made her way up the stairs to the second floor, darting through the crowds until she reached her favorite hiding spot. The odd placement of a floor-to-ceiling support beam always left room for one person directly behind it with a perfect view of the main dance floor. She would often claim her perch on busy nights and stare at the crowds in amazement. What a difference a few hundred years make. No more angry mobs giving chase with flaming torches and pitchforks. No lurking in shadows or hunting under cover of darkness. Most importantly, no killing.
How can we find you? Do you have a newsletter link you can share, a Facebook author page or other links to social media?
Thank you for asking. I love chatting with readers!
Amazon Author Page: www.amazon.com/author/cynthiafox
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