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KS Augustin and Alex Beecroft

Interview: Jan 04, 2008

Wildfire would like to welcome authors KS Augustin and Alex Beecroft. Meet two international authors with distinctively different writing styles who love the genres they write it but wouldn't mind trying something new.

KS Augustin

Julie: When a new book comes out, are you nervous about how readers will react to it?

KS: Oh always. Just because something made eminent sense in my mind, I worry that maybe it might not make sense to someone else. Was I too subtle or too obvious about a particular plot point? Did I handle a particular conflict well? Are the heroine and hero characters people that readers can relate to? Do the villains have enough depth? Did I write clearly? Did I keep the action going sufficiently well? Are the characters' motivations clear? And that was just a handful of questions from the top of my head. LOL So I think "nervous" is a bit of an understatement!

Julie: What is your writing process? Do you outline, fly by the seat of your pants, or a combination of both?

KS: I outline. I have scene-by-scene plans for every one of my releases. In some cases, I even have the page counts figured before I set fingers to keyboard. I find that if I can't finish a detailed outline, the book doesn't become "real" for me. (I've got about 4 or 5 of those! LOL) Once I'm writing, however, there are often times when a twist, or new perspective, appears. Then I go back and either re-jiggle my plan or add new scenes, which is my preference, and keep writing.

Julie: What genre do you want to try your hand at but haven't?

KS: I write mostly science-fiction romance, and I've tried my hand at fantasy romance, which people seemed to like. Interestingly, I'd like to try a contemporary, but an engaging plot hasn't occurred to me yet. I'll just have to wait and see.

Julie: What's next for you?

KS: I'm editing and expanding a sci-fi romance with a working title of "The Turk". It's the story of a disillusioned scientist working on one of the biggest breakthroughs in her part of the galaxy, and what happens when she meets a man who is one of the most brilliant she's met who is also suffering under an horrific burden. She wants to close her eyes to what's going on around her, but has no choice. She has to make a decision. Which is more important�truth or security?

Julie: What do you hope for your writing career in the next few years? Any goals that you have yet to obtain that you have set for yourself?

KS: I'm usually a novella writer, which means I can focus on the plot and the main characters, and not much else. However, to be honest, being a slow novella writer isn't that good for a long-term career as a writer. So in 2008, I've vowed to stretch myself and complete at least 2 novels. Plans have a tendency of changing, so I've just kept my goals to 2008. Who knows, even that may change by June!

Julie: Most people envision an author's life as being really glamorous. What's the most unglamorous thing that you've done in the past week?

KS: Ha ha. Glamorous. ::wipes tears from eyes:: If I can get away with it, I'm in my PJs from morning to night. The most unglamorous thing I've done this week? Okay, well we had roast chicken for dinner one day this past week. But the chickens in this part of the world (south-east Asia) come whole�the entire bird, just gutted and de-feathered. So, before I started the roasting, I chopped off, then chopped up, the chicken's head, neck and feet so our cats could enjoy a treat. I stained my t-shirt in the process, too, so not only was it unglamorous, but also vexing.

Julie: What books are currently on your nightstand?

KS: I have a print nightstand, and an electronic nightstand. On my print nightstand, I have the novella Michael Kohlhaas by Heinrich von Kleist. It's part of the Art of the Novella series, published by Melville House. I'm also enjoying Dragon Lady by Sterling Seagrave, which is a lively biography of the last empress of China, the much (unjustifiably) maligned, Tzu Hsi.

My electronic nightstand contains Confessions of a Tax Collector by Richard Yancey (this book is actually part of my research for some upcoming stories), Two Cats, Three Tales by Lilian Jackson Braun, and some Mark Twain short stories.

Julie: Describe the space where you write.

KS: I know it goes against all the rules (distancing of work from play and relaxation), but I have my desk in my bedroom. I bought a new desktop system recently, so I have a beautiful ultra-bright 19" display, a quiet machine, broadband, laser printer and bookshelf with my dictionary and thesaurus within easy reach. I'm by a set of windows that takes up an entire wall and also a little of the adjacent walls. When I look outside, I can into see the apartments of the opposite block, but also a vista across northern Singapore (we're on the 14th floor).

I start my writing work at about 5:30am on weekday mornings and go through to about 6:00pm, off and on. It's nice to catch the sunrise and sunset from my desk, although it gets a little hot in the afternoon. I have to add that I have a very understanding family�husband and kids. They leave me alone when I ask, and are suitably sympathetic to all my grumbles when I feel life has been particularly unfair to little ole author me.

Julie: Do you prefer writing series books over non series or does it matter?

KS: I like writing self-contained books in a series, if that makes sense. I have an idea for a 2-book series that's currently running about in my head, but I usually prefer writing books that can stand alone. Having said that, if I'm writing stories set in the same universe (the Republic, or the Fusion), then I like to put in a little reference to other stories. Prime Suspect, for example, refers to the prison-planet of Bliss, which is the setting for On Bliss. But you don't need to know the plot of one to follow the other�it's just me having some fun.

I think I steer away from series because I don't have time to read as much as I'd like, so I prefer books that are unencumbered. It's a case of my reader preferences affecting my writer preferences.

Julie: Do you remember the first romance novel that you read?

KS: Oh my, that's taking me back. Not the exact title, but bear with me. I was 16 and paying my extended family a visit in Malaysia. I was in my aunt's study (I was staying with her at the time), looking for something to read, and most of the books on the shelves were either medical texts or history. And I stumbled across a slim paperback. It was a Barbara Cartland, and I was hooked. That might also explain my abiding love for historical romances. Given a choice, I'll pick an historical every time.

KS Augustin is a writer of science-fiction and science-fiction and fantasy romance. Over the years, she has been a programmer, bookshop owner, political satirist, martial arts instructor, as well as a number of other things she'd rather forget. She and her husband have lived and worked on several continents and have now settled in south-east Asia for the time being. Mostly for the food, to be honest. They have two children and two cats. You can catch all her latest news, including her opinionated blog, at her website.

Backlist:
The Commander's Slave, New Concepts Publishing (2007 CAPA nominee)
On Bliss, Total-E-Bound
Prime Suspect, Total-E-Bound
The Dragon of Ankoll Keep, Samhain Publishing (Blue Ribbon favorite)
Combat!, Samhain Publishing

Coming soon:
still working on that folks!

Links:
Website

Alex Beecroft

Julie: How long have you been writing? What inspired you to pick the pen up one day and create characters that capture the imagination?

Alex: As far as I remember, I started writing when I was eleven. Short stories mostly, though as I got older there were also innumerable starts of novels which never got finished. I suppose it might have happened because I was the only child in the house. My sisters are 18 and 20 years older than me and had left home before I was old enough to remember very much. I needed a way to discover and express myself which didn't involve actually interacting with other people. Oh dear! That sounds dreadful, doesn't it? But really there was no moment of revelation�I'd been playing make believe all my life, and one day I started to write it down. It didn't seem different enough at the time to remember what sparked the change.

Julie: What is your writing process? Do you outline, fly by the seat of your pants, or a combination of both?

Alex: A combination. I tend to write on inspiration for the first three or four chapters. Then by the time I've done that much, I've started to have a proper grasp of who my characters are and what they want. As soon as I know that, I sit down and make a plan of what's going to happen next. I don't hold rigidly to the plan, but I do find it very helpful to know approximately where I'm going. Of course it does mean that when I've done the plot I might have to go back and change the first three or four chapters to fit it, but I find the book feels more alive to me if I do it that way. If I plan first, without the initial burst of sheer inspiration, then the characters never quite come alive and it feels dull to me.

Julie: What influenced you to get published? How long did it take for your first book to get published?

Alex: Oh, that's one of those amazing flukes where you feel that someone up there is looking after you. I had known for a long time that what I really wanted to write was m/m fiction, but I thought there was no market for it at all. So I'd been writing a series of short stories for my friends just for our own enjoyment, when one day one of them discovered Ransom by Lee Rowan. She reviewed it, saying how much she'd enjoyed it and how delighted she was to find that there were actual published books of the kind of fiction we enjoyed. And then Lee dropped by to say thank you for the review. I mentioned to her how exciting it was to find this new genre, and how I hoped one day to get involved myself. Then she said, "Well, my publisher is running their annual competition to select a new writer. If you can get something together in the next month, why not try entering it?" At that point I didn't have a book at all, I had a linked series of short stories. But I thought "nothing ventured, nothing gained", and spent the next month sitting up to all hours writing the bridging material needed to turn the stories into a novel. I entered it into the competition one day before the deadline. And it won! Unbelievable! I was sure that such things didn't happen to me. But this time they did.

Julie: What's next for you?

Alex: I've just had a short story called '90% Proof' (10,000 words) accepted by Freya's Bower for an m/m anthology. I'll be doing the editing on that in January. I've also just finished the first draft of another Age of Sail m/m romance called Secrets. The first draft is quite rough, so I'm going to have to spend a few months whipping that into better shape before I can show it to anyone. It's looking as though it needs to be longer than "Captain's Surrender". It's certainly more complicated! Then I've started a little holiday romance which will be the ideal thing to try and finish over the summer. I had one book out last year�I wonder if it would be too much to hope for to get two out this year?

Julie: Most people envision an author's life as being really glamorous. What's the most unglamorous thing that you've done in the past week?

Alex: LOL! I've had food poisoning this week. That wasn't glamorous at all! If you could have seen me yesterday, slouched in front of the computer looking haggard in my pink flannelette pajamas, drinking mugs of hot water because I didn't dare touch tea yet, it would have put you off forever J

Julie: Out of all of the characters that you've written, who is your favorite and why?

Alex: Oh, that's tricky, because currently I think I like John Cavendish best�he's one of my heroes in Secrets. But saying that won't mean anything to anyone but me because no one but me has seen that book yet. Out of Captain's Surrender, I think I approve of Josh most, but I like Peter better. I like the fact that he's so blithe and oblivious�he's so convinced that he can do anything, and that everyone thinks he's wonderful. I think I like him because he's totally unlike me. I'd quite like to be like that, but I'm not.

Julie: What do you do when you aren't writing? Any hobbies or special interests that you can tell us about?

Alex: Hobby wise, I do Anglo-Saxon re-enactment, which means that I spend a lot of time living as a Saxon. When I'm not out camping in Anglo Saxon tents, cooking for 20 people in a single cauldron over an open fire, spinning, weaving, embroidering, making shoes and other leather work etc, I am at our long hall in Kent, helping with the building work. We've been building an Anglo-Saxon long hall, which you can see here
http://wychurst.regia.org/longhall.htm (that's me in the front, and my daughters on the beam above me). Though it's more impressive than that now. It now looks like this:
http://galadhir.livejournal.com/89343.html#cutid1

There must be a Saxon novel in me somewhere, but perhaps it's being kept down because instead of dreaming it, I'm living it ;)

Julie: Do you ever experience writer's block? If you do, how do you cope with it?

Alex: I get it quite a lot. I frequently have times when there just doesn't seem to be another story in me, and I'm no longer interested in anything. It's a terrible feeling, like having some part of your soul cut off. I tend to give it a couple of weeks and do things which I think of as "refilling the well". Things to fill up the part of me that must be empty, such as lots of reading, going to see films, going on walks in the countryside. After that I start something whether I feel inspired or not, and the inspiration generally comes back. I live in dread of the day when it doesn't!

Julie: Are there any absolutely-must-have characteristics for your heroes or heroines?

Alex: I like heroes and heroines to be good people�people who try to do what they think is the right thing, and are generally kind, or at least are trying as hard as they can to be kind. I do tend to mess them up so that sometimes it's hard for them to tell what the right thing is, but I like them to at least be making an effort. I'm not a great admirer of bad boys�they have enough fans already. The good boys deserve love too.

Julie: If you weren't writing romance, what would you be writing?

Alex: Almost any kind of speculative fiction; Historical or Fantasy, or SF. I have a Georgian murder mystery all plotted out on my hard disk which I've been meaning to do for some time. Also I've recently become interested in the Romans and am thinking of doing a historical novel about Caesar Augustus. I'd want there to be at least a sub-plot of romance, though. Without it, everything feels a bit stodgy and hard going, I think.

Born in Northern Ireland during the Troubles, Alex Beecroft moved early to Cheshire, where she grew up in the wild countryside of the Peak District. Lots of lonely rambles among heaths and forest made it natural for her to start making up stories. At the age of eleven she started writing them down and she hasn't stopped since.

Alex met her husband in London while working for the Lord Chancellor's Department. Nowadays she lives near the ancient University of Cambridge, where she and her husband are raising two daughters. Alex will tell you that she's thrilled to be doing what she always wanted to do, living her dream of being a writer and published romance author.

Backlist
Captain's Surrender, Linden Bay Romance

Coming soon:
90% Proof, Freya's Bower

Links:
Website
MySpace Page
Blog
Livejournal
'In Their Own Words'

If you would like to request an interview, please send a query to info@allromanceebooks.com

Until next time!

Julie Cummings
Wildfire Interview Coordinator
All Romance eBooks

Unmasked by Jane Beckenham
This story is rated 2 flames. Some love scenes. These are more sensual then graphic.

Jo Gallagher thought she could do it. Thought she could be...different.

Fool!

How wrong could she get? She stared blankly into the bottom of her glass and grimaced. Empty. Just like her life. But then, tonight was meant be different.

Wrong again!

Staff Christmas parties were always hell, and this year was no different.

Nothing had changed. She was still alone�in an overcrowded bar where people yelled to be heard above the music and would-be lovers flirted�and she, twenty-nine, successful, and single, sat alone.

Thank God it was a masked event. No one would recognize the pathetic person behind the mask, behind the blonde wig and skimpy sequined dress. No one knew. And no one would care.

But she did. Damn it!

At the threat of tears, she realized she had to get out of there. Go home. Lick her wounds. Grabbing her purse, she slid off the bar stool and spun on her four inch heels which attested to her useless life�she lived in flats�and tottered towards the exit.

Then she saw him.

Zorro!

Well, at least his costume was Zorro incarnate. Jo's gaze slid in one fluid movement from his broad shoulders wrapped in black silk and swathed by a scarlet-lined cloak, over thighs encased in skin-tight trousers, and leather boots that hugged his calves.

She let out a rasping hiss. Was it hot in here? That black cape sure did it for her. She licked her lips, aware of the sickly sweet taste of rum on her lips.

Shame it wasn't him she could taste!

Whoa! Where did that come from?

Lust. Pure and simple.

From beneath his ebony mask Zorro's gaze met hers, holding her captive. In fact, if she breathed it would be a miracle, as her insides tingled with a heated awareness. Perspiration dotted her brow, between her breasts, her taut nipples a delicious scrape against the fabric of her barely there dress and for one sweet moment, Jo found herself leaning forward, almost a thrust, a temptation. A need. Urgent. Hot. And desperate.

Get a life. Jo snapped her gaze from the masked defender and wobbling on her borrowed wafer thin heels, she precariously wove her way through the sweating heave of bodies.

Zorro didn't move. But he watched her. She knew it. Every step she took towards the exit�and him, he watched her. His mouth curled, full and potent, blatant even. Definitely a temptation.

She reached the steps and stood, head tilted back, body zinging with unabashed desire. She squeezed her eyes shut. "It's acting. Not real," she muttered, hoping to get a grip�at least wake up.

Why?

Yeah, why?

Her eyes snapped open. Zorro held a hand to her. For a moment, she didn't understand, her brain refused to connect, although her body connected instantly. How could she not? The man was everything she had always wanted.

Dark and mysterious. A hero.

"Our carriage awaits."

"Huh! You've got the wrong fantasy," she countered without thinking.

Dark eyes glittered from beneath the mask, his smile broadening to define a dimple.

The man had a dimple. Hell, she was a sucker for them. She raised her gaze to the heavens. Thank you, God!

"So you want fantasy?"

Heat coiled in her belly as the word fantasy seemed to stretch out to her, reel her in, as if an insect to a spider's web. For a moment, least she drown in the tangle of emotions and heat rolling through her at breakneck speed, she cast a glance at the throng of still partying co-workers. "Isn't Christmas a fantasy?"

"Perhaps, for children," he acceded, "but what about your fantasies?"

"I�" Her cheeks burned, hell her whole body burned. Fantasies. She had them. Lots of them. All secret.

"Why not live your fantasy?"

She blinked. Did he know? How could he?

"Come with me. I can fulfill your dreams."

"Yeah right. What happens when the clock strikes midnight? The glass slipper breaks and the carriage turns into a pumpkin," Jo's cynicism activated.

"You're not Cinderella."

"No, and you're not Zorro."

"Tonight, I can be anyone, just as you can. You came in disguise; craving the ignominy that fantasy gives. Why not live out the fantasy?"

Jo's breath hitched in her throat. "Because�" She hesitated. Why�why not?

"Because?" he repeated.

She was scared. Always had been.

"Live tonight."

It was as if he could read her mind. See her fears, her �

Desperation, that's what it is. You're desperate to live. So why not? Go on. Live a little. Or a lot. Or are you too scared, even for just one night?

She took a step towards him. Everything around her silenced. No music. No voices. Only the thunder of her heartbeat as she slipped her hand in his.

The touch was electric, a shock that ricocheted right through her, making her toes curl in her wicked heels.

"Come on."

Two words. Easy words.

Do it!

Barely able to breathe, Jo followed him closely, watching with awe as the crowds parted for Zorro and Marilyn. A bubble of laughter fluttered from her lips as they finally exited the heat and thrust of the party and into the silence of the crisp night. Stars glittered in the heavens and the moon hung low in a cloudless night sky. It was as if she could almost reach out and touch them. "Beautiful."

"Not as much as you." Zorro's whispered words caught her completely unawares, bringing reality. "What do you want?"

"You?"

Her heartbeat stalled, but before she had the chance to offer a reply, he stepped back, arm outstretched framing her�carriage.

Her jaw dropped. "That's a�"

"A carriage to complete the fantasy."

Heat steeled once more along her cheeks, racing with thoroughness down her neck into the plunging neckline of her silver Marilyn Monroe dress. How did he know? "Who are you?"

"Your dream, your fantasy," he said curving her towards him. And she went. Willingly. Totally. Her body lined his length and beneath the folds of his ebony cloak his heat scorched through the layers, wrapping her in a sensuality she had never, ever known.

"Shall we?" He opened the door with theatrical bravado, but for a moment Jo hesitated.

"How do I know you're not some nut?" She should be wary, should run a mile. But she didn't. Instead she watched him, the flicker of his long dark lashes, the shadow of heat and desire in his eyes.

"I promise you."

That was all. A promise. They could be any words�but they weren't. They were sincere. Honest. Real. And for some reason all Jo needed. Wiping the tip of her tongue along her suddenly dry lips, trying to hold her nerves at bay, she gathered her satin skirt in one hand and took his still outstretched hand with the other and took refuge on the luxurious velvet seat.

Surrounded by silks and velvets, Jo startled at the sound of a soft click as the carriage door closed, and her hero sat beside her. With a jolt they were off.

"How am I doing so far in the fantasy stakes?" he asked.

Damn good.

"Excellent." She eyed him. A fine sheen sparkled above his mask, and she was sure she saw a faint glimmer of relief in his dark eyes when she answered. Jo smiled secretively. So her hero wasn't as sure of himself as he made out.

He talked about fantasy. This was it. Whisked away. A carriage. And lust!

"No one can see in."

"This is a private world," she said, realizing the cocooning affect of the silken walls.

"I want to kiss you."

Yes! Thank God. She wanted him to. Had ever since they'd locked eyes. There was something sexy and ultimately wicked about a man in a mask. Illicit! Fun! "So why wait?"

He dropped his head, lips taking hers, totally, deliciously. In the days of Zorro women would swoon. Jo now knew why.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue dancing a primal intimacy with hers and her toes curled once more. She had imagined more than once being made love to by a stranger. And who better than Zorro, his daring ringing true as the wheels of the carriage slipped over the streets of a silent Christmas Eve. Automatically, her body pressed against his, her nipples aching for his touch.

But there was something she had to know. Before� Darn it. Why did her mind always rule her heart, her body? She pulled back a fraction, looking up at her stranger�her lover. She smiled. Lover. This man was her lover. Just as she had wished for as she had sat at the bar.

"Why me?"

He didn't answer for a moment, and she sensed he was gathering all the words he needed to convince her. That it was extremely important that he do that�make her believe.

"Because I have looked from afar," he said, using suddenly old-fashioned words, but from him they were just right. "I have watched you."

Her eyes gaped, instant fear erupting in her gut. "You're a stalker.

He chuckled at that, the tension in his corded muscles beneath her fingertips, relaxing. "No, simply an admirer. I see you reading your romances at lunchtime. I read somewhere they're a woman's fantasy, and wanted to give you your own fantasy."

"You've done that," she said gazing around the small carriage, then coming back to look at him. She lifted a hand, fingertips trailing down the side of his cheek, over the silken curve of the mask.

He caught her wrist, holding it. "No peeking."

"Oh, you're no fun."

"Really? And here I thought I was upping the fun quota. Seems I have to work harder."

In one swift movement he lifted her bodily so that she sat astride him. Her throat constricted, her body zinging alive with anticipation. It had been a long time since a man had aroused her. There was something different about her hero. And yet�She frowned. There was something familiar too. �At lunchtime...he'd said.

Did that mean he was staff? Surely he had to be. He had been at the staff Christmas party, just as she was.

"You're not concentrating," he said, drawing her thoughts back.

"On�"

"You. On what you feel, what your body tells you. Do you like this?" And he cupped her breasts, the pad of his thumb circling each hard nipple with increasing pressure. A soft moan slipped from her lips and she arched her back.

"I take that is a yes," he chuckled.

Then her world went overboard. He bent forward, mouth circling one bud through the silky fabric. Sucking. Teasing. Tempting her beyond control.

Control?

She had none.

Hands everywhere, trailing through his hair, beneath his cloak, unclipping the silver clasp, letting the fabric slip back with a silky hush. Heat. Want. Soft moans of pleasure. Desire was everything and her need to touch him, feel him, overwhelming. With shaking fingers she untied the cord at the neck of his shirt. The moment her fingers touched his bare skin, Jo had the distinct feeling she had come home�to everything she had dreamed of, and fantasized about.

In a tangle of clothes and skin, both naked, he thrust into her, hard, fast, fulfilling, and yes�every fantasy, all rolled into one glorious peak as time held still, in the beauty of the moment.

Then silence.

The carriage had stilled, but not her heart. That hammered a tattoo against his, a beat in time. She lifted her head, eyes steadfast, holding his sleepy gaze. "Why?"

"Because I wanted to please you, give you something, hope, passion."

"Lust?"

His mouth curved into a teasing smile. "Love."

Her eyes must have communicated her confusion.

"Because�I love you." And with that, Zorro, the man who brought her fantasies alive, took off his mask.

Author Jane Beckenham found literature at a young age. In books she discovered dreams and hope, stories that inspired in her a love of romance, and travel. Years later, after a blind date, Jane found her own true love and married him eleven months later.

Life has been a series of "dreams" for Jane. Dreaming of learning to walk again after spending years in hospital. Dreaming of raising a family and subsequently flying to Russia to bring home her two adopted daughters. And of course, dreaming of writing.

In 2007 Jane celebrated the release of her fourth book. Hiring Cupid, a fun and sexy read that will leave you searching for your very own Cupid, along with a fifth book, He's The One.

With her family growing up, life is a round of playing mum's taxi service, all the while wondering what her hero and heroine are up to behind her back! Writing is Jane's addiction�and it sure beats housework.
You can contact Jane via her web site or email her. Want to join her newsletter, a monthly chat about books, authors and fun. Go to Jane's Newsletter or her myspace page.

Links:
Website

Backlist:
He's The One, Linden Bay Romance
Hiring Cupid, Linden Bay Romance
Woman Of Valor, Treble Heart Books
Be My Valentine, Treble Heart Books
Always A Bridesmaid, Treble Heart Books

Submissions to The Weekly Sizzle should be sent to Sizzle@allromanceebooks.com. We are looking for original short stories, 1-5 flames, 200-2000 words.

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Sent: Jan 04, 2008

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