Hello everyone! I’m ecstatic to have Romance Author Avril Ashton with me today. Please say hi and leave her a comment or two below.
l always wanted to have a sexy bio, one to reflect who I am, but after drawing a blank, l could only come up with: I eat cake and I read books…ooh, and I write ‘em too. No one liked it and after massive peer-pressure and pouting, I managed something more…suitable?
A Caribbean transplant, Avril now lives in Brooklyn, N.Y with a tolerant Spousal Equivalent. Together they raise an eccentric daughter who loves reading and school (not so much school anymore). Avril’s earliest memories of reading revolve around discussing plot points of The Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys with an equally book-minded mother
Always in love with the written word, Avril finally decided to do the writing in August of ’09 and never looked back. Spicy love scenes, delicious heroes, and wicked women burn up the pages of Avril’s stories, but there’ll always be a happy ending; Av remains a believer of love in all its forms.
You can find her at:
Excerpt (Rated R)
“What the fuck do you want?”
Ryken’s eyes flew to his, the need and confusion in their blue depths blinding. Saint gritted his teeth. He wanted to haul the younger man into his arms, bite on those plump lips, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. The cool air chilled the sweat on his skin, reminding Saint of his tattoos, exposed for Ryken to see. Underneath Ryken’s arousal and confused need, Saint caught the scent of another. Another man had held Ryken in his arms tonight.
Anger clouded his vision. That someone would dare touch what belonged to him—but he hadn’t staked any claims. Ryken was free.
Saint blinked and turned away from the door. He needed some distance to clear his mind, to breathe without thinking of finding this David shmuck and slitting his throat.
The door slammed shut behind him and he turned around. Ryken stood in the middle of the room, his eyes roaming over Saint’s skin. Damn, he had to get covered up.
“I asked what you wanted. Are you deaf or something?”
Ryken met his gaze slowly, tongue sliding out to wet his bottom lip. A nervous gesture. “I want…”
Those soft-spoken words hardened Saint to painful proportions. He took a step forward.
Ryken backed up and spoke again. “I want you to quit. Now. Today.”
Saint couldn’t help it—he burst out laughing. Sure wasn’t expecting that. “So soon? I’ve only just arrived.”
Ryken frowned, the arousal in his eyes all but replaced by anger. “I don’t care what you tell my brother, but I want you to leave tonight.” Desperation flared on his face for a second, but he recovered smoothly, settling on a commanding sneer instead.
Lips curved, Saint slid his gaze down the tight length of Ryken’s body. Past the red T-shirt and tan leather jacket, to the dark jeans riding low on his hips. He licked his lips at the thick bulge growing bigger by the moment. “Scares you, doesn’t it?” Bringing his attention back to Ryken’s face, he saw that confused arousal was back.
Deep splashes of red coloured Ryken’s cheeks. “What scares me?”
Saint closed the distance between them with a grin, his cock swaying within the loose confines of his sweats with each step. “The pull you feel between us scares you. The fact that I get your cock hard scares you.”
Ryken’s jaw dropped and his eyes bulged.
Saint kept going. “The fact that you see my face when you’re with David scares you.”
Ryken jerked as if struck. Guess that one hit home.
What do you find the hardest part of being an author?
The promotion is a ‘B’. I’m happy to write, all day every day, but promotion. Man, that’s a killer.
What’s you favorite thing about writing?
Hands down its reader feedback. It’s scary and humbling to offer up yourself out there for people to see. It’s an incredibly naked feeling, but just one email from a reader saying they liked your work makes it all better.
Just how H.O.T. are most of your books?
Not hot at all. Heh. No. ‘Burn yo face off’ hot.
Hot sweet or romantic do they tend to be?
Very romantic and emotional. I like that in my stories. Not necessarily sweet.
Do you have a specific writing style?
I’m not sure what my style is. Basically, a mash-up of curse words and love scenes over an angsty plot line. Right? Right?
Which is you favorite storyline/angst situation and why? What inspired you to write about it?
I love good guy/bad guy stories. Conflict that’s built right in. From the onset you know these two shouldn’t be together, but you know they need to be. They have to be. You want them to. Then comes the drama.
Boxers or Briefs? I know which I prefer . . . *wink*
Too many to count. Not clichéd at all, just the truth.
‘Writing is the only thing I do, that when I do it, I don’t feel like I should be doing something else.’
What’s next for you?
More writing, more hotness. Some of the straight variety, some a lil bent.