Hi Taryn and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Anything But Mine!
I’m Taryn Elliott, contemporary romance author with out of control characters who do NOT do what their told. Oh, and TV addict. *curtsies*
Please summarize the book a la Twitter style for the readers here:
A burnt out rock star comes home to hole up and recharge, instead he meets a woman who challenges him and reminds him what passion is both in music and between the sheets. But when his past mistakes come back to haunt him, he realizes that maybe the paranoia he’s been dealing with has a far more destructive hold on him.
Please share the opening line of this book:
Fifteen years ago, if someone had told him that a city boy from Los Angeles was going to fall hopelessly in love with a small town in upstate New York, he would have eaten his American Music Award. He stepped down out of his truck and let the wall of heat envelop him. Grass crunched under his flip-flops.
Please share a few Random facts about this book…
Winchester Falls was a nod to the hero inspiration for the trilogy, Jensen Ackles. YUM. Haaaai Dean Winchester.
I think it’s a pre-requisite for romance authors to have a thing for the angsty Winchester brothers. All that delicious conflict. How could I not use him as a romance hero. Especially since the actor, Jensen, has his dry, grouchy humor that just flew off my fingertips.
This trilogy has some cameo appearances from other musicians from my series with Cari Quinn. Oh, our worlds are so very incestuous. A singer from here, a guitarist from there…I can make them go anywhere in the world because they are nomads. They adapt and change like chameleons. But no two characters are the same for me.
Logan King is famous and rich, but he’s become so isolated and paranoid about security that it’s affecting how he interacts with anyone. I wanted to show a veteran musician – and how fame and the all seeing eye of the telephoto lens can cause a helluva lot of chaos. And also how perceptions can color judgement in SO many ways.
Please tell us a little about the characters in your book. As you wrote your protagonist was there anything about them that surprised you?
Izzy was a complete surprise. I tend to write very strong females with quite a bit of sarcasm thrown in. And Isabella Grace definitely qualifies in that regard. But she also knows just what she wants. She wants a home, a family, and someone stable in her life. A lot of the time, my female characters tend to shy away from commitment. Izzy’s running headlong into it.
Logan King is pretty broken. It’s hard to tell anything about him without ruining the story. What I can say, is that Winchester Falls has become a safe haven for him, as well as a place where Logan has had a lot of firsts. Including which, is falling in love with a strong-willed woman who makes him want to be a better man.
What kind of research did you do for this book?
Not a heck of a lot. Most of what I research is instruments and music related. I love, love, loooove to write about musicians. My problem? I’m pretty much tone deaf and can’t read a lick of music. But man, I have a helluva lot of fun faking it.
The First kiss…
Without a word, she stalked across the space between them and dragged his head down to meet her desperate mouth.
There was no softness, just a raw meeting of mouths and tongues. He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up, so she could hook her legs around his middle. With a groan, he filled his hands with her ass. The kiss was brutal. They couldn’t seem to get enough. Sliding tongues, the nip of teeth along his lower lip only to have her lave her tongue over the pulsing flesh in the next moment.
(After that it gets a little racier. Ahem.)
Did any scene have you crying or laughing while writing it?
There’s a little nod to my best friend, and co-writer, Cari Quinn. She’s a huge Halloween movie fan.
When she read that, we both had a good laugh.
Bella shoved her head under the pillow. Too bright, too loud.
Sun streamed through the room and her phone was going off from somewhere across the room.
Logan was sprawled on his belly next to her, his arm heavy across her waist. She buried herself further under the pillow. Finally the ringer stopped only to start over again with its eerie piano.
“Is there a reason why Michael Myers is in my bedroom? Is he going to kill us?”
She giggled out a moan. “Ringtone.”
The bed dipped and her pillow disappeared. “Who gets that? Or is that everyone?”
She laughed, peering up at him through one eye. “Sharon.”
He snorted and dragged her into his side. “Nice.” He tucked his chin into her neck and nibbled his way up to her ear, the fingers of his free slid under the sheet to her ribs.
“No.” She tried to wiggle away. She was way too ticklish for that action so early.
Like a dog with a bone, he attacked her until she was shrieking with laughter. She bucked under him, but he just threw his thigh over her legs and held her down.
“No fair. You’re bigger.”
He grinned down at her. Mussed hair, sleepy green eyes, and a carefree happiness lighting his features. Gone was the tension he usually carried like a shield. Had she done that?
Because she liked the idea of that a little too much, she pushed at his shoulders when her phone went off again. He rolled off her with a sigh and stretched. Good grief. Bronzed and freckled, he was simply too delicious to comprehend.
“Keep looking at me like that and you will not be answering that phone.”
She sat up, pushing her hair out of her eyes. She looked around for her shorts, finally spotting them in front of the door. How the hell had they gotten all the way over there? She snatched a blue Henley shirt off a chair in the corner and slid it on.
“I prefer you naked, but you look damn good in my shirt, Iz.”
She grinned over her shoulder. “I might just steal it.”
He propped himself up on a couple of pillows, the sheet barely covering him. She quickly looked away. No way, no how was she going to get drawn back into that bed right now.
If your book was optioned for a movie, what scene would be absolutely crucial to include and why?
The first moment that they let themselves go around each other.
Location: On Stage – after hours.
The silence was disarming. After hours of unending music, the silence felt too loud. He followed her up the side stairs, tracking her slow, swaying walk around the drum riser to his keyboard.
She wore a flowing little dress that swished around her knees with every movement. As usual, she had on a killer pair of heels on that accentuated superb legs and did something to showcase her ass. An ass he’d felt rub against him.
There was no doubt where this was going. A few nights ago he’d fought every instinct to get close to her, and now they were all clamoring in his head. The freedom to touch came with a million other problems.
Namely, how was he going to stop?
He moved to the portable board they’d been using to program the lights to go with the songs. He dimmed the lights to a soft glow and made a quick playlist of songs on his Mac. The final song made him smile as he pushed it to the top of the list.
Gary Allan’s smoky voice and dirty guitar filled the space. Izzy turned from her inspection of the setlist and a slow smile teased her lips.
“I couldn’t resist.”
The click of her heels on the stage were slow and methodical as she walked toward him. The sway of her hips made his throat go dry. She lifted her arms up and fiddled with a clip in her hair. Instead of letting her dark hair free, she twisted it up, leaving the long, elegant lines of her neck unadorned.
His feet were cemented to the stage. He didn’t realize just how much he wanted her to come to him until now. Without a lure, without an ulterior motive, without anything but hunger lighting those amazing eyes.
She stopped in front of him, her hands resting on his shoulders as they slowly swayed together.
He closed his eyes as her jasmine scent hit him a moment before her breasts grazed his chest. He slid his palm over her hip to her bare back and up the silky dip of her spine. With his other arm he wrapped her close. Chest to chest, thigh to thigh, they swayed into a lazy spin.
The brush of her forehead against his chin, the heat of her breath against his neck, the way she fit against him, all of it felt right. He trailed the tips of his fingers up her back to the nape of her neck. Silky soft with just a hint of damp from the unrelenting heat. He curled his fingers into her hair and drew her head back enough to sip from her neck.
Her skin was salty and warm. He traced the column of her neck to her collarbone and made a return trip up, scraping his teeth where she swallowed hard, then lighter over her chin to hover over her lips. He watched her eyes slit open as he flicked his tongue along her lower lip. Just the lightest touch.
He breathed her in, accepting her hot breath and sweet moan. On the edge of his first real taste of her, he wanted to hold onto it, to resist her lure. He pulled away and bussed his lips along her cheek and along her jaw.
The song spun out as the guitars grew darker, grittier. It suited his mood. He was already wound too tight to touch her. He wanted her taste inside of him so very badly. Denial seemed to be his only way out of this without going a little mad.
If you could have given your characters one piece of advice before the opening pages of the book, what would it be and why?
Fear is your greatest enemy.
What are you currently working on? What other releases so you have planned for 2014?
Well, we’re right on the edge of 2014.
But we do have one more coming out in my collaborative series with Cari Quinn. – TWISTED is coming out on Dec 2.
And book two of the WHEN YOU’RE GONE trilogy – BULLETPROOF WEEKS is coming out 1/13/15
THANKS SO MUCH FOR HAVING ME!! I hope a little of my crazy answers for Sara’s QnA made Logan and Izzy sound good to you.
Giveaway: I’m giving away 3 e-copies (format of choice) of ANYTHING BUT MINE.
To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: So…tell me. What’s your preferred heat level for books? Why?
A:)Light the fires and kick the tires – I’m ready for anything
B.)Leave me breathless – A few hot moments are good, but not too many.
C.) Sweet with a little bit of heat.
D.) close the door, I like to use my own imagination, thanks.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Isabella wandered over the wide, worn planks. Some of them were warped with time and any number of spills from machines or animals. A few coats of dark stain, and the barn would be lovely. Rustic and full of stories, it was the perfect backdrop for a show.
The hollow click of her heels filled the silence now. The workers had scattered, except for a tall man on the stage. Battered denim cupped a rather fine backside as he crouched in front of a junction box.
An electrician that took care of himself from the flex of muscle under his army green tank top. He was all smooth, tanned skin with a splash of freckles across his shoulders. It was as if he’d been dusted with powdered cinnamon, some were big and some were a mere pinprick. More of the same dotted his arms and forearms. And lord, his hands.
What was it about a man’s hands?
Wide with long fingers and more of those damn freckles. Was the man covered in them from head to toe?
She swallowed at the thought. Everything?
Gutter meet shameful hussy. Geeze.
She was picking apart the finer points of a complete stranger. Who probably did not have a face to match his superior back end. Those hands though. They were enough to spark a few fantasies in the dark.
Since her life consisted of fantasies instead of flesh and blood men lately, she’d been stirring up some decidedly racy ones.
He stood, and by the weeping angels, that man had muscles to spare on his back. He even had those hot little triceps denting his arms that made her drool for unknown reasons. A fine sheen of sweat on his shoulders matched her own. There was no breeze in the barn and the heat was cloying.
She dabbed at her forehead with the back of her hand and wished she’d pinned her bangs back. The original plan had been to spend the day in her over air conditioned store. She had to keep a lot of the collector books at a certain temperature and humidity, so the lower level of the brownstone had been heaven this week.
The man slapped the electrical box closed and turned so he was in profile. Chest of magnificence to match those shoulders—check. Long neck with more freckles hidden by a dense scruff in a ginger color made her mouth water. She had a weakness for men with a weekend beard. It was still prickly enough to give you a nice little buzz and soft enough not to rip your skin apart.
His looked soft though. More like a week’s worth of growth.
Full lips pressed together then a swipe of tongue wet them. Would his lips be salty?
Could she get a grip?
Talk about a trip down Objectification Boulevard. When his mouth tipped up at the corner and perfect teeth peeked from those mackable lips, her gaze flew to his eyes.
She looked down.
Then recognition jolted through her. Her gaze swung to him again. He eased around the scaffolding and nimbly landed on the hardwood floor, all athletic grace and male perfection.
Because he was freaking Logan King.
She’d just eye-fucked the lead singer of All the King’s Men—their headliner and the darling of Winchester Falls.
BOOK 1 in an all new TRILOGY.
Rock star Logan King has come home to Winchester Falls for the annual Summer Festival. Only this time he’s hauling a helluva lot more baggage than a few suitcases and vintage guitars. His closet contains more than the usual skeletons…and if he doesn’t keep the door firmly locked, someone might get harmed. The specter of what haunts him forces him to turn away from anything more than one-night-stands.
Until Izzy and her topaz eyes finally give him a reason to try again.
Since moving to town Isabella Grace has found friends and a place to belong for the first time in her life. Running the Summer Festival is the perfect way to show how important her new community is. She just never planned on a whirlwind fling with a man too used to saying goodbye. Or to fall for a guy who has as many secrets as he does hit songs.
Logan is used to protecting himself, but protecting Izzy is all new territory. With everything that matters to him at risk, he refuses to let her get hurt—even if that means he has to walk away. For her own good.
Meet the Author
TARYN ELLIOTT comes from the great state of New York—upstate, thank you very much. She’s usually busy making up stories with her best friend until the wee hours of the morning, or fangirling over her favorite TV show. She falls in love with each and every one of her leading men as she writes their book, and there’s always a soundtrack to match.