How did you start writing erotica?
I started with romance and the erotic moments followed. Seemed to me sex was a normal, healthy part of any romantic relationship as the couple moved forward together and I wanted to reflect that.
What’s your favourite published work of yours and why?
The Russian Guns series, but if I was only allowed to pick one book out of the series it would be The Score. I knew some of the topics were going to be hard for readers (no spoilers), but when it was finished, it was perfect. For me, for the couple, and for the end of the series. The male lead still has an effect on all the heroes I write.
What erotic authors do you enjoy reading?
A lot are into the BDSM erotica and I’m just … not. So, that’s not an easy question to answer. I actually read more clean romance than I do erotica, but since we’re talking heat … I really like Kiru Taye and some older Lora Leigh (Forbidden Pleasure and such).
Where do you draw your inspiration from?
A lot of things. Research—for my mafia novels. Pictures, music. My spouse, sometimes. Heh—don’t tell him that. He’d die.
Do you have any unusual writing rituals?
Is having three kids aged 5, 3 and 2 and a half months screaming and running all around you constantly while you write a ritual? It happens every time. Let’s go with that. Ha.
Where’s your favourite place to write?
Out on my porch in the summertime. It’s beautiful, and hot, and yeah. My kids have a couple acre of land to run on. I can’t see the road from my house as we live so far up into the woods. It’s private and my coffee doesn’t get cold.
Who is your favourite character from one of your stories and why?
Anton. As I said above, he’s the main hero from The Russian Guns series and still effects all the heroes I write in one way or another. He’s intense and I needed a character like that to come in and burn through my writing.
Do your nearest and dearest know what you do, and if so, what was their reaction when they found out?
All my family knows, but only a few have actually read my novels. I don’t care a whole lot either way if they read or not. Most asked, “Like Fifty Shades?” No, not like that. Nothing like that.
What was your ideal career when you were a child?
I don’t have a lot of memories from my childhood, but I remember always reading. I began to get serious about writing in my late teens, early twenties—I’m only 25 now, so I haven’t been writing for long if we consider my age.
How do you get yourself in the mood to write?
I actually have a harder time getting out of the mood. I write to feel sane most days. After the birth of my oldest son, writing became a way to battle a very rough several month’s worth of PPD. It became a habit. I write daily—I have to.
What’s the best writing tip you’ve ever been given?
Not everyone is going to like it, and if I can’t handle that reality, I shouldn’t be publishing for public consumption.
If you get writer’s block, how do you get around it?
I keep writing. Even if it sucks and I’ll never use it or it’s not fixable, I keep writing until it gets better.
If you could bring one of your characters to life, which one would it be and why?
Nicoli Avdonin from The Russian Guns. He has a story to tell and I want to tell it for him but he’s never told me as a character, so I wonder if he’d tell me as a man.
Which author, erotic or otherwise would you love to meet and why?
We’ll go with otherwise for this—VC Andrews. She was my favorite author growing up. I found out later about the ghost-writer nonsense, but I’m more interested in picking her brain about Flowers in the Attic.
What’s your favourite genre within erotica and why?
Erotic romance—contemporary, or M/M. I don’t like the flash and dash of BDSM. I think a lot of people struggle with making Ménage feel authentic. So, for easy, hot reads, I stick with contemporaries or male on male.
What are you working on at the moment?
Three things, actually. I’m working on finishing the final brother’s (Dante) book in the Filthy Marcello Trilogy. I’ve started the free novella that’s going to follow as the 4th book in the Russian Guns, and I’ve started the work on the 5th book for that series, Shattered (Demyan’s story).
What’s the biggest writing challenge you’ve ever taken on? Did you succeed?
Self-publishing. I don’t know if that’s a “writing” challenge, but it’s the only challenging thing I’ve come to during my dance with this career. And yes, I would say I have succeeded in some ways.
What’s your biggest writing achievement? Why?
Thus far? Publishing anything at all. I’m an introvert in life, like to the point I don’t do very much but stay and home, write, love on my hubby, and chill with the kids. And yes, I’m perfectly happy with doing only those things. But publishing? It’s difficult to put myself into any situation that shines attention on me, be it good or bad.
Lucian Marcello is aware of the expectations following him as the oldest son of one of North America’s most infamous Cosa Nostra Dons. Family in his world is more than blood and sharing a last name. It’s the honor, respect, business, and the life. Being a Capo is just a stepping stone until it’s time for him to take on the role of underboss but a chance meeting with her could be the one thing he’d risk it all for.
She is exactly what he didn’t know he was looking for.
Jordyn Reese spends her time trying to stay under the radar of a man who wouldn’t think twice about killing her. Unwillingly affiliated with a dangerous MC gang, her life is dominated by the men surrounding her and her future rests solely in how useful she can be for them. The last thing she needs is some Mafioso gaining her more unwanted attention from the club.
He is everything she should stay away from but can’t.
Notoriously violent when it comes to getting what he wants, Lucian will stop at nothing to make the target on Jordyn’s back disappear. But sometimes the worst threats are the ones you can’t see until it’s too late. The truth behind Lucian’s history is about to take center stage in more ways than one, and it’ll either save him … or kill him.
This world leaves everyone a little filthy.
Out of the corners of his eyes, Lucian did see part of her bare shoulder and the black curls hiding her face, though. It wasn’t so much the amount of flesh she was showing as it was the peeks of what looked like a cherry blossom tattoo crawling over her shoulder and dipping down her back where it disappeared from his sight.
“Hello, guys. I’m Jordyn. I’ll be serving you tonight, or something close to it. What’ll it be?”
The sultry tone of her voice was something Lucian and his body noticed the moment she spoke. It was almost like a mixture of innocence and experience, if that were possible. She didn’t sound entirely bored, but she didn’t sound like she was in it to win it with her job, either.
Dante looked to his father, his earlier comment about not consuming the drinks being silently said again. Antony must have took note.
“A bottle of Jack, unopened. Four—” Antony stopped up short, his lips tugging down into a frown as he passed a glance towards Gio. The youngest brother certainly didn’t need to be drinking tonight. “Make that three glasses. We’ll pour.”
Leaning forward was the worst mistake Lucian made since waking up that day. He certainly hadn’t expected to see her again. At least not in a place like this. She was on his mind all damned week, those eyes of hers, cream-like flesh, and a mouth that just at the sight alone, make his own water.
What’d she call herself? Jordyn, was it?
Shit was right—he was in so much of it.
Suddenly, Lucian was not in the zone like he needed to be.
He was so incredibly fucked.
Also, Lucian realized he was right about his first assumption when he thought she had ink under her dress that day at the confessional box. Cherry blossoms started somewhere beneath the lace and leather bottoms she wore and trailed up over her side, before crossing over her left breast which was also covered by nothing but a lace and leather brassiere, and then curved over her shoulder.
There was another tattoo, too, but in the darkness, Lucian couldn’t read the scripted words.
Strangely, the immediate rush of possessiveness that flooded his veins surprised him. She was still so beautiful, like crazy. The more skin his gaze crawled over, the tighter his pants became. Lucian caught himself wondering what those blossoms would taste like under his tongue.
Yeah, he was not where he needed to be. This unknown woman knocked him off kilter and she probably didn’t even know it. What was wrong with him?
Unfortunately, his father seemed to realize his son’s abrupt change in posture and mood. “Lucian?”
At the sound of his name, the girl’s—Jordyn, he reminded himself—eyes flashed to meet his in the corner, those dark lashes of hers blinking rapidly like she also didn’t believe what she was seeing. Lucian swallowed the thickness building in his throat. Thankfully, Jordyn didn’t act like they had ever met or seen one another before. She simply went on doing her own business.
“Unopened bottle of Jack and three glasses. Anything else?” she asked, avoiding Lucian’s piercing gaze.
“Yes,” Antony said, still watching Lucian closely. “The owner is Ron Daney, correct?”
Jordyn stood a little stiffer, her shoulders squaring. “I beg your pardon?”
“The owner is Ron Daney, Vice President of the Brooklyn chapter of The Sons of Hell,” Lucian said gruffly, trying to swallow back the huskiness forming. “We’re not ATF or the feds, let’s just be clear on that, sweetheart. Ron, he’s in tonight, yes?”
Jordyn nodded warily. “Always is.”
“Good,” Antony replied with a grin. “Send him a drink, whatever he likes. Do be sure to tell him it’s from a guest. Antony Marcello and his crew. Do not mistake my name when you tell him. Be sure to point me out so he sees me. Understood?”
With that, the woman Lucian simply needed to glance at to turn his skin ablaze and his heart stuttering, was walking away.
She didn’t look back.
Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to three young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time.