Monday, July 18, 2011

Welcome to Vonnie Davis

Today my guest is Vonnie Davis

Welcome to my blog, Tell us a little about yourself:

I’m a retired technical writer who is living her dream: I’m writing. My husband is also an autho. His novel, The Phantom Lady of Paris, was released three weeks ago. So we’ve each had a book come out within the past month. We’re in major book promotion mode here at the Davis household. My life is enriched with three grown children and six fantastic grandkids. One could say I’m a late achiever. I never started college until I was forty-four. I found the love of my life at the age of fifty-five. And at sixty-three, I’m achieving a dream—having my first book published.

What do like the most and the least about writing?

Sharing what I dislike the most is easy—the self-promotion. I’m of the generation that was taught, “Self-praise stinks.” I struggle with saying, “Hey, I wrote this fantastic book and you have to read it.”

What I enjoy most is having characters who reach out from the computer screen, grab me by the throat and growl, “Pay attention! This is how the scene should go!” The characters and I don’t usually get on such intimate terms until chapter five or six. Once they start ordering me about, all I do is take dictation.

Give us a peek into your latest published work?

Nurse Rachel Dennison comes to Texas determined to prepare her new patient for a second round of chemo. What she isn’t counting on is her patient’s twin brother, Storm Masterson. Despite her initial attraction, Storm has two things Rachel can’t abide: a domineering personality and a fiancée.

Half Native American, with the ability to have "vision dreams," Storm dreams about Rachel for three nights before her arrival. Both are unprepared for the firestorm of emotions their first chance encounter ignites.

Ultimately, it is Rachel’s past—an abusive, maniacal ex-boyfriend—that threatens to keep them apart…and Storm’s dreams that bring them together again.

What’s next on the writing horizon for you?

I have two projects with editors at The Wild Rose Press. One is a short story set in Texas—oh, I do love cowboys, contemporary or historical. The other was a stretch for me to write. Mona Lisa’s Room is a romantic suspense set in Paris with an American woman celebrating her fortieth birthday, a younger government agent and vengeful terrorists. This is the first of a trilogy. I’m currently working on the first book of a series set in a small mountainous community with a host of interesting characters.

Is there anything you want to tell readers?

I’d rather ask them something, if that’s okay. Please in your comments, tell me what types of romance you like to read? What types of heroines do you enjoy most? Wounded? Comical? Strong and determined? And, of course, I’d love to hear about the types of heroes you sigh over and fall a little in love with.

This is the opening scene of Storm’s Interlude –

Someone swaggered out of the moonlit night toward Rachel. Exhausted from a long day of driving, she braked and blinked. Either she was hallucinating or her sugar levels had plummeted. Maybe that accounted for the male mirage, albeit a very magnificent male mirage, trekking toward her. She peered once more into the hot July night at the image illuminated by her headlights. Sure enough, there he was, cresting the hill on foot—a naked man wearing nothing but a black cowboy hat, a pair of boots and a go-to-hell sneer.

Well, well, things really did grow bigger in Texas. The man quickly covered his privates with his black Stetson. Rachel sighed. The show was evidently over. Should she stand up in her Beetle convertible and applaud? Give a couple cat calls? Wolf whistles? Maybe not.

She turned down the music on the car’s CD player. Sounds of crickets and a lonely bullfrog in the distance created a nighttime symphony in the stillness of this isolated stretch of country road. Lightning bugs darted back and forth, blinking a display of neon yellow glow.

The naked man strode toward her car, and Rachel’s heart rate kicked up. Common sense told her to step on the gas, yet what woman wanted to drive away from such a riveting sight? Still, life had taught her to be careful. She reached into her handbag and extracted her chrome revolver. Before he reached her car, she quickly slid her gun under the folds of her skirt.

Just let him try anything funny—I know how to take care of myself.

Both of his large hands clasped his hat to his groin. His face bore annoyance and a touch of chagrin. “I need a ride.” By his bearing and commanding tone of voice, she guessed the man was used to giving orders and having them followed.

Her eyes took a slow journey across his face. Even in the moonlight, she could see traces of Native heritage. His shoulder-length ebony hair, too long for her tastes, glistened against his bronzed skin. Proud arrogant eyes sparked anger.

Because Rachel believed in indulging herself, she allowed her eyes to travel over his broad shoulders, muscular chest and tight abdominal muscles. She saw a thin trail of dark hair starting below his navel, knowing full well where it ended, and fought back a groan. Her eyes slid back up to lock on his. “You need a pair of pants, too.” Knowing her voice hummed with desire, she cleared her throat, hoping the naked man hadn’t noticed.

He looked up at the sky for a beat. “Just my freakin’ luck! A birthday party gone bad, and now I’m bein’ ogled by some horny kid with damnable blue eyes.”

What the heck was wrong with her eyes? She quickly glanced in her rearview mirror and saw nothing amiss. She narrowed those “damnable blue eyes” and sneered. “Look, buster, I’m not the one prancing around Texas naked as a jaybird. I’ll have you know I’m hardly a kid.” She glanced down at the black cowboy hat. “And, furthermore, stop hiding behind that big ol’ Stetson. From what I saw, a French beret would do the job.”

There, let the arrogant fool stew on that while he struted back to whatever rock he crawled out from under. She slammed her car in gear and sped off.

She swore she wouldn’t look in her rearview mirror. Nope, she would not look. Like a magnet emitting a powerful homing signal, her eyes slowly slid to the glass surface. He was standing where she’d left him….. So, do you think she went back???

Please stop by my blog sometime to visit. Right now I’m part of a Mega-Author Blog Hop. Stop by, follow the directions and leave your comment and email address for eligibility in my drawing.

Visit Vonnie's website by clicking here

Buy Links for Vonnie's book either paper or e-book:

Amazon click here

The Wild Rose Press click here

Thank you for being my guest today Vonnie.


Isabel said...

Hi Marie!
Hi Vonnie!

I enjoyed the post very much. Vonnie, you have quite an intriguing story here. Checking out Storm's Interlude is a must for me after reading this excerpt.


Marie Tuhart said...

Thanks for stopping by Isabel.