I am back from my temporary leave with an exciting series of blogs coming! My friend and fellow erotica author, Gail Bridges, is here to share several peeks at her novel, Inn on the Edge. I bought this book and read it in two days! I could not put it down. I am very excited to have the opportunity to share it with you, so let's dive right in!
Gail and I met up at one of both of our favorite restaurants in our fabulous city of Seattle, The Old Spaghetti Factory a few weeks ago. Of course we took our seats in the trolley.
I ordered a delicious spinach stuffed ravioli in white sauce, Gail a more traditional looking red sauced feast that has me questioning my own order as I watch her take the first bite.
It's nice to sit down with a fellow erotica author and discuss things that even some close friends simply don't understand. Such as, favorite adult only sites and erotica blogs, nonchalantly chuckling about what our husbands must think of our browsing history on our lap tops.
There's a little old lady and possibly her adult granddaughter sitting at the table below us and I hide my grin as we get into our interview.
How long have you been writing?
A long, long time. I have a detailed memory of myself, age twelve, making up novels with huge casts of characters and convoluted plot lines and clever titles. Every morning, on my way to school (I walked about half a mile, but it seemed so...much...longer), I let myself get lost in dreams of my future adult self – the world-famous author!
Tell us something about your newest release that is NOT in the blurb.
Well...all the characters are artistic! The main character is a painter and her new husband is a classical guitarist. There is also a writer, a fiber artist, a jeweler, a dancer, and a singer in the book. I had fun bringing all of these talented people together in a single story!
Are you working on anything at the present you would like to tell us about?
Oh yes! As I mentioned above, the erotic horror novel A Touch of Dahlia is my current project. It is the story of an erotic healer that sets out to save people but ends up hurting them instead. This new story is burning in my mind, demanding to be written.
The biggest surprise in the past year has been my discovery of how much I adore writing erotic horror. My books aren't blood-soaked, slash-and-kill horror, their horror derives from psychological terror, suspense, and the reader's knowledge that something isn't right.
What do you like to do when you are not writing?
I like to read, of course. I also play the classical guitar in a duo called the Arvey-Francis Duo. My duet partner and I recently released a CD of our music, which we are very proud of. Our videos can be found on YouTube or on our website: http://www.arveyfrancis.com/
Are you a plotter or a pantser?
I'm neither a plotter nor a pantser. Or perhaps I'm a combination of the two. I start every project with a plot. I have to know where the story starts, how it ends, and how it got from one place to the other. Once I know these things, and once I've written a simple outline, I start writing. At this point, I find myself transforming into a pantser.
I've found this method to be flexible for my writing needs. For example, I've been in the middle of a book and discovered some perfect yet unanticipated plot element that I hadn't included in the original outline. No problem. I simply tweak the outline a bit and go back and add relevant material to earlier chapters.
The opening pages
The Washington State map flapped against my face, threatening to fling itself out the open car window and into the scrubby-looking trees at the side of the road. I folded the annoying thing and stuffed it in the folds of white satin draped over my lap. There. That was better. I shifted in my seat, wondering how long it would be before I could get out of my hot, itchy wedding dress. The fabric tugged and pulled and scratched—obviously, wedding dresses were never meant to be comfortable. That’s why most brides change out of them before setting off for their honeymoons.
Josh had asked me not to.
I breathed deeply, willing myself to be patient, hoping we were nearing our destination. At least the landscape was changing. It felt cooler here, near the Washington coast, and wetter too. I thought I could smell the ocean. I sat up straighter, hoping for a glimpse. “Josh,” I said, breaking a long silence, “tell me again—how did you find this place? The Inn on the Edge?”
Josh glanced at me. “You already know how. The internet.”
“But it’s…you know. Strange. An odd choice for a honeymoon. Four couples together for an entire week—that’s kind of different, wouldn’t you say?”
He smiled. “You like different, babe. And you asked for a surprise, remember?”
“Mmm. But are you sure I’m supposed to wear the dress? At check-in?”
This time his glance lingered on me for so long I almost told him to pay attention to his driving. “You’re so beautiful, Angie. Even with your hair whipping around like that. And the red spots on your cheeks. Beautiful.” His knuckles gripped the steering wheel. “I can’t wait to get there. To get you out of that dress!”
“Me neither.” I reached over and squeezed his knee. It felt warm.
“The inn gave us a great deal!” he said, his leg jiggling under my hand. “A huge discount for newlyweds.”
“Really? How huge?”
He grinned. “I’m not telling. But to get the special rate we had to come straight from the reception. Still in our wedding clothes.”
“The food is supposed to be out of this world. Highest ratings I’ve ever seen.”
“Good. I’m ravenous.”
“And there’s more.”
I waited. I squeezed his leg for good measure.
“Hints I’ve read online. Nothing very clear.” He glanced at me, a glint in his eyes. “About…um…sex. I think.”
“People rated the place for sex?”
“Yes! The setting is supposed to be perfect for it. Romantic as all hell. People say they return from their honeymoons invigorated. Raring to go. With new—ah…tricks in their arsenal.”
I laughed. It sounded good to me. Who wouldn’t like a new trick or two? I ran my hand up and down the fine fabric of his suit pants, feeling his muscles move as he drove. I caressed his thigh, moved toward his crotch then back to his thigh, carefully steering clear of sensitive things that ought not be messed with while driving.
But wanting to in the worst way.
Available on Amazon and at Ellora's Cave
Gail Bridges Bio:
I have three grown children. I live in Seattle, Washington with my husband and our five cats.
In the past I have worked in a variety of different artistic media. I have a BFA in painting from the University of Washington, and for over fifteen years I made award-winning Fine Art Jewelry (silver and handmade ceramics) and sold my work at local and regional Fine Art and Craft shows. My business, Vivid Arts, flourished – but always, I felt driven to write. Two years ago, no longer able to deny the writing muse, I took an open-ended sabbatical from my art shows. Since then, I’ve written two novels and a number of published and unpublished short stories.