We’re having a special KickAss Friday by hosting one of our KAC besties as an Honorary Chick. Please welcome Rhenna Morgan. If you follow us at all, you might’ve seen Rhenna on the KickAss Cam at the RT Convention in May. Love and adore Rhenna. So here’s a little about her then she’ll take it away with our Q&A.
Rhenna Morgan writes for the same reason she reads—to escape reality.
Yes, her life rocks—two beautiful little girls, a great husband, a steady job, and the kind of friends that would take you out back if you hurt her. But, like most women, she’s got obligations stacked tight from dusk to dawn. So, when the world gets her down, she slips into something…less realistic.
Romance is a must. So is a steamy romp (or four). Nothing thrills her more than the fantasy of new, exciting worlds, strong, intuitive men, and the sigh of, “Oh if only that could happen to me.”
So, if you’re picking up one of her books, expect portals into alternate realms and men who’ll fight to keep the women they want. Romantic escape for the women who need it.
What are the top three mistakes authors make in writing and/or submitting their work?
- Okay, so try not to laugh/gap/choke on this first one, but you gotta read the instructions. Seriously. You’d be astounded how many folks who want to write for a living don’t take the time to read the instructions given by a publisher or agent before they submit. The same goes for entering contests. If you’re disqualified for failure to follow the rules, then you never get a chance to win a spot in front of that coveted agent or editor.Those “rules” are there for a reason. They need to know if you’ll be able to follow their guidelines when the editing process comes around.
- Thinking you don’t have anymore to learn. We’ve always got room to grow. If I really settle in and listen to what’s being shared with me—by my editor, my critique partners, or my readers—then my writing will continue to strengthen.
- Rushing to the finish line. Yes, the day your first book goes live ranks right up there with your first car, your first child, and amazing sex. (Did I say that out loud?) However! Even great sex requires certain preparation. Get critique partners and beta readers. Get an editor. Listen when they give you feedback and make your book the best it can be before you send it off for submission and/or publish.
Now for some fun! Rapid Fire Questions:
Oh, goodie! A lightning round! I hope the prize is handsome. Somewhere between Jason Momoa and David Gandy works for me.<Snicker>
Dessert, my new Camaro (named Cherry by the 8 year old), and the horde of book boyfriends on my physical and electronic bookshelves.
Passive aggressive types, people who knock the romance genre, and anyone who says, “I’ve been meaning to write a book…”
Um, dessert. Definitely, books. Books are a biggie, for sure. So is wine (but not in a bad way). I’ve also got this weird thing for cases for my electronics and have more pairs of cheapy bookstore readers than I can count. Oh, did I mention dessert?
Kick Ass Superpower:
Okay, so I couldn’t decide if this was my real life superpower, or my “I wish” superpower. Since I can’t admit my real life superpower in a public forum (or without being blotto on wine), I’ll go with “I wish” superpower—Flying. Yep. Pretty much all of the powers my characters from The Eden Series have came straight from my dreams, the most prominent of which was the ability to fly. Of course, I’d still drive my Camaro just for kicks. 🙂
Your best book boyfriend:
Wow. Okay, I had to whip out the electronic book shelves and do some SERIOUS eanie-meanie-miney-mo. And just so you know, this is causing me serious angst. GEEZ! I’m a Libra, people!!!
- For the night: – Vishous from Lover Unbound by JR Ward.
- For a dirty weekend:Aleksandr “The Siberian” Sevastyan from Kresley Cole’s The Professional. (Hey, you said dirty. He’s dirty.)
- To have and to hold: Oh. My. God. I can’t believe you’re going to tie me down to just one!!! Okay..if I must…DaxLahn from Kristen Ashley’s The Golden Dynasty.
Thank you, Rhenna! And to share just a teeny bit more about Ms. Fabulous Morgan, here’s a peek into her fantastic new release, WHAT JANIE WANTS.
EXCERPT: Told in Zade’s Point of View:
The steady swish as Janie rubbed lotion into her legs sounded next to him. A coconut scent carried right behind it. “You said you’re a photographer, right?”
That made two details she’d remembered about him. Either she had an exceptional memory, or Ms. McAlister had given him a thought or two since yesterday. “Yep.”
“So, how could they screw that up?”
Well, this would be interesting. He sat up, planted his feet in the sand, and rested his elbows on his knees. “Because I had a specialty business. One that catered to women. One I busted my balls to make sure came across as tasteful and made them feel good about themselves.”
“What kind of specialty?”
He smiled, poised to catch her reaction as if he had his camera. “Boudoir shots.”
Janie’s hand froze mid forearm and she snapped her head around so hard, a strand of auburn hair tumbled over one eye. “Boudoir?”
“Nothing trashy,” he said. “All tasteful and meant to draw out a woman’s beauty. Usually with the help of their partner or husband.”
She licked her lip and started back up with the lotion, moving up to her shoulders in slower, deeper strokes. Shifting to face front, she focused on her toes and acted like they were chatting up the weather. In a tone a notch lower, she said, “And they screwed it up how?”
“You familiar with Glamour Shots?”
Her sharp laugh rang out across the cove and ricocheted back to them. Her easy smile stretched ear-to-ear, all the awkwardness of seconds ago obliterated. “Oh, Lord. Please tell me they didn’t gaudy up something good?”
“Double gaudy. Cheesy corsets, stilettos, and Photoshop. Everything that flies in the face of what I wanted to give them.”
Janie’s gaze locked with his and, for a second, he wondered if she was holding her breath. She rolled her lips inward the way women did when trying to smooth out their lipstick, twisted as though looking for something behind her, and flicked the bottle’s top closed.
Her back. She couldn’t reach her back with the lotion. The cut of the swimsuit was low and her barely tanned skin was on display. Talk about divine intervention.
He stood and tugged the bottle from her grip. “Scoot up.”
Warily, she studied him.
He straddled the lounger behind her and sat.
“What are you doing?”
He squeezed out enough lotion to make damned sure he’d have to rub for a while. “Helping you with your sunscreen.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Why not? Would you rather burn?”
Janie twisted. “But it’s not appropri—”
His hands connected on either side of her spine and her shoulders snapped back. “Easy,” he murmured, curling his thumbs and kneading the back of her neck. “Just relax.”
Bit by bit, her muscles unclenched and her breathing grew choppy.
God, what was it about this woman? Touching her felt like more than just physical contact. There was a foundation to it. A soul-deep connection and communication that made every other intimate moment he’d had with other women seem cheap in comparison.
She let her head fall forward, and a few loose tendrils fell forward with it. A moan of satisfaction vibrated beneath his palm.
Slow and easy, he worked the lotion into her smooth skin. Relaxed movements meant to sooth and entice. He nudged her shoulder straps a little wider apart, and dipped his fingertips under them. “When’s the last time someone touched you, Janie?”
The pool noise faded to nothing, but the soft, peaceful pattern of wind, waves, and birds seemed to thicken and amplify.
A tiny shiver shook her. “A long time.”