Mine, Not Hers (Book 1-True Love Series) is romantic erotica. I think most authors tend to write what they would like to read themselves, and I definitely fall into that category. I’m a big fan of E.L. James, Christina Lauren and Sylvia Day.
Can you describe the story in one or two sentences for our readers?
It’s the story of a true, deep love between two people that is tested when a suspected betrayal hits their marriage. Plenty of heat and suspense that keeps the reader guessing.
Tell us the story behind the story. What influenced you to write it and how long did it take you?
Every time I finished reading a book, I’d think to myself, ‘I really want to write!’ I allowed the story to develop on it’s own as I was writing. Once I began, it took a little over a year.
Is there a part of you in any of the characters?
Of course! I won’t dare say which parts, but they do sneak in. I think it’s unavoidable. I think some of their characteristics begin to rub off on me, as well.
If you assigned an actor/actress to the characters in your novel, who would they be?
I’ve used Pinterest a lot to help with this one. Of course, we always have a clear image when we write (or read) of who we think our characters should be. For the leads, I can see Jason played by model Justice Joslin (look him up, he’s gorgeous), Katie played by Gabriella Wilde and Cynthia played by Megan Fox.
Do you have a favorite book or art that inspires you?
I draw on so many different things to inspire me creatively. I generally take the unbeaten path and gravitate to things just a little outside the norm. I get inspiration from reading auto-biographies. I’m so drawn to individuals back stories, no matter who it is. The nuttier, the better. Fiction has nothing on real life for making you stop and think. I appreciate all forms of creative expression, as well. Music, paintings, sculpture, poetry. It’s all a small piece of the artist’s soul, and for that reason alone, is enough to inspire.
Do you have a message in your books that you want your readers to grasp?
It seems that I do, even a little unintentionally. True love exists, strong, loving men are really out there and we should never settle for anything less than finding the person who brings out the best in us.
When did you decide to become a writer?
When I was about five, and that’s the truth. I was a very early reader, and loved writing my own little stories on my mother’s typewriter. I hated writing required papers in school, if I couldn’t make it up from my imagination, I was miserable. Fast-forward to adult life, I waited until my oldest went off to college so that I could dedicate more time with my laptop. The desire was always there, but life and responsibilities have a way of distracting you from your dreams. I held strong and waited.
What advice would you give to aspiring writers?
Write. Every single day. Every famous writer who has ever been asked that question always gives that same response. I’ve heard it and read it dozens of times, but that’s because it’s true. Writing takes commitment and practice, like anything else you aspire to be better at. An hour a day, minimum, to really see the effort pay off. Even if you don’t know what to write about, just put words down on paper (or screen).
How do you find the time to write?
I force myself to make it a priority. I’ve learned that the hard way over the last few years. The first book took a year to complete, because the discipline of making time wasn’t quite there. I’ve gotten much better, and considerably more productive, when I put it on my calendar as priority #1.
What are you working on right now?
I’m making my notes for a new series. Brothers, careers and a ranch are involved. It’ll be hot!
How can readers find you online?
My website is the best place to begin.
I can be found on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Linkedin, Amazon Author Central and Google+ under Betsy Anne Books
Excerpt from Mine, Not Hers
Jason calls me promptly at two the next day. I’m sitting in the living room with my mom and dad, and I excuse myself to talk to him in private. I keep checking the shadow under the door, because I know my mother’s fondness for snooping. I should mention on the phone that I’m pregnant just to hear her cough up her lunch. That image puts a smile on my face, and Jason must hear it in my voice.
“Hi! I’m so glad you called. My mom’s been driving me crazy asking questions about you today. I realized I don’t know anything about you,” I say as quietly as possible without whispering.
“Well, I kept my promise and thought of you all night. I wouldn’t call it dreaming, because I couldn’t sleep. What have you done to me, Katie?”
That last line was barely audible, but I heard it. My stomach does a little flip knowing that he is still feeling as strongly as he proclaimed last night. We talk on the phone for two and a half hours. I tell him all about me, not that there’s that much to tell. Only child, private school I hated, and not many friends or boyfriends to speak of. My life story is over in about five minutes. I find out from questioning him that he loves sports, all sports. He plays football, basketball, and runs track. He wants to go into some type of sports medicine, so he keeps his grades first priority. He has an older sister, Megan, in her second year of college down in Arizona, and a younger brother, Johnny who is friends with Colleen’s brother, Luke. His parents, Walter and Mary, own a bakery together. Two, actually: the local one by the grocery store, and one they just opened downtown. They’ve been really busy, and Jason has to help out a lot with the house and his brother. That explains no time for girls.
He asks if he can meet Colleen and me in the morning so he can walk with us. He has noticed that I walk with her every morning. When we finally say our strung out goodbyes, I feel like I’m on the moon. Are my feet even touching the ground? Both of my parents notice when I float into the kitchen for dinner.
“Wow, look at her!” my dad, Bob, says with a chuckle.
“She’s on cloud nine, dear, I can tell. A mother knows.”
Of course, my mom knows everything. That’s what happens when you keep your ear to the ground, or against the door, or have eyeballs looking through a window. I love my parents very much, but it’s hard being an only child sometimes.