Gracen’s
Bio
Gracen
is a hopeless daydreamer masquerading as a “normal” person in southern society.
When not writing, she’s a full-time basketball/lacrosse/guitar mom for her two
sons and a devoted wife to her real-life hero-husband of over twenty years. She
has an unusual relationship with her muse, Dom, but credits all her creative
success to his brilliant mind. She’s addicted to writing, paranormal romance
novels and movies, Alabama football, and coffee...addictions are not
necessarily in order of priority. She’s convinced coffee is nectar from the
gods and when blending coffee and writing together it generates the perfect
creative merger. Many of her creative worlds are spawned from coffee highs and
Dom’s aggressive demands. To learn more about Gracen or to leave her a comment,
visit her website at www.gracen-miller.com.
Questions:
Thank you Gracen for taking time to answer these questions!!!
Questions:
1.
When did you decide to write?
Well…I don’t think I ever really decided to write, but
rather writing chose me. My first introduction to writing was as a 6th
grade homework assignment and I’ve been writing books, poems, plays, and
serials ever since that moment.
2.
How did you come up with the idea of your newest book?
I wanted to write a new adult book, and I thought a rocker
romance would be fun and easy to write. As a teen my walls were covered with
posters of the rock star hotties I loved and I fantasized about falling in love
with them. So, I guess you could say writing about a rocker and his love
interest is a one of my long-time daydreams that I finally just put into a
book.
3.
What Genre do write?
Ha! It might be easier to say what genre I don’t write. At
the moment, I write paranormal erotic romances, contemporary new adult, and
horromance (that’s a combo between romance, paranormal and horror).
4.
Would you ever write with another author if asked?
Sure, but we’d have to be a good fit. I couldn’t co-author
a book with just anyone.
5.
Who is your biggest inspiration?
I don’t have just one thing that inspires me. I’d say as a
whole, my indie author community of friends keeps me inspired to write.
6.
Who are some of your favorite authors?
My favorite indie authors are Jaime Saare (Aline Hunter),
Kendall Grey, A.M. Hargrove, and Ann Mayburn. Favorite NY authors are Nalini
Singh and Kresley Cole.
7.
What genre do you like to read?
Romance in almost any genre, along with the occasional
horror book.
8.
What was the last book that you read?
I don’t read much because I spend so much time writing. I had
to go look at my Nook library to see the last book I’d read. LOL It was Beauty
From Love by Georgia Cates.
9.
What are you working on?
Lost in the Beat, which is book 2 in the Hot Wired series.
Rockin’ the Heart is the first book in the Hot Wired series and is my newest
release.
Fun Questions:
1.
Favorite Animal
My dog Crimson, she’s a Chihuahua
2.
Favorite Color
Hot pink
3.
Favorite Food
Reese cups! Mmm…they produce the most amazing
tongue-gasms!!
4.
Favorite Genre of Music
Hard rock (Octane on Sirius)
5.
Favorite Season
Summer because it’s beach weather. The pollen in springtime
gives me itchy eyes, a croaking voice, and turns me into an antihistamine
drug-popper. I freeze during the winter and can never get warm regardless how
much I bundle up. And I hate dipping the leaves out of the pool in the fall.
So…yeah, summer because there’s less maintenance involved in the season and I
don’t mind our Southern sweltering heat. LOL
Blurb:
If music nourishes the
soul…
Loved by millions, but shunned by
blood, Heath “Fang” Fangor has led his band, Hot Wired, to the top while others
have fallen by the wayside. He devoted his life to music, and from that
devotion harvested a new family—his band mates and fans.
A man can desire
nothing else…or can he?
Living in the shadow of her
brother’s fame sucks! Sam Collins is desperate to have what she wants—a simple
and uncomplicated life. She’s no stranger to scandals and how they work. Now
that she’s inadvertently dragged Fang into the center of her latest gossip,
could the scandal she created in her quest for freedom have gone too far?
Amid stardom the heart
stages a new melody…
Fang has more fame and fortune than
he will ever need, but none of that matters if he can’t have the woman of his
dreams. Years have been wasted waiting for the right moment to approach the
woman his heart desires above all others. There’s just one major
problem...she’s his best friend’s sister. To have her, he will have to risk it
all.
One that might be
responsible for Rockin the Heart!
EXCERPT:
Chapter
One
Heath was a rock star
god. The tight lines fanning outward from his silver eyes classified him as a
pissed off rock star god.
“Wanna tell me what
you did this time to get the platinum treatment?” He indicated the jail cell,
while ramming his fingers through his shaggy, jet-black hair.
Preferring to shrink
into the shadows and avoid a confrontation with him, Sam took a deep breath and
rose from the bench. She stepped away from the metal seat to draw closer to the
bars dividing them.
She’d expected her
brother, Jason—Jase—to ride to her rescue. Like always. Her foundation.
Predictable. Dependable. Rattled by her sibling’s abandonment, she ogled the
skull on Heath’s shirt, mortification overwhelming her.
If Heath was Jase’s
replacement, then he’d been serious when he said ‘don’t call me the next time
you’re arrested.’ She’d assumed he yelled that in anger. She was surprised he’d
bothered to offer aid at all.
Gut hollow at her
brother’s desertion, she cleared the ache out of her throat and asked, “Can’t
you just bail me out and we’ll forget this ever happened?”
Knowing he wouldn’t go
for that suggestion, Sam swallowed hard and shuffled her feet. Disappointing
Jase was one thing, but letting Heath down was an entirely different matter.
She’d crushed on the man since her tenth birthday when he’d given her a
heart-shaped jewelry box. Didn’t matter he’d been too old for her at a mature
fourteen. That infatuation hadn’t waned with age either, but only grown
stronger. Not that he showed her a stitch of interest. To him, she was nothing
more complicated than a kid sister.
His digits curled
around one of the bars. The tattoo lettering on his left knuckles fit his
current disposition—ired. On the
other hand the letters H-O-T-W graced his knuckles. If read together, they
spelled out the name of his band: Hot Wired.
“Not this time,
Samantha.”
She cringed. The only
time he broke out her full name was when he was upset or disappointed with her.
“You been drinking?”
“You know I haven’t.”
Just shy of twenty-one, in her world getting liquor wasn’t an issue. Neither
was alcohol her preferred drug of choice.
“Drugs?”
She rolled her eyes,
the question too stupid to warrant a response.
“This type of
publicity is bad news for the band.” She’d heard that one before. None of her
recklessness damaged Hot Wired’s career. Not that she sought to hinder their
mega stardom. She wasn’t that selfish, she just struggled with controlling her
impulses on occasion.
Therapy failed to
help. Yelling spawned further rebellion.
Living under the
umbrella of the band’s fame grew tiresome. Her life should be her own, to live
however she pleased. Weary of the media hounding her, she craved going back to
a time when nobody knew her name. A normal life like when she’d been a kid.
She’d grown up on
daydreams of the band making it to the big times. They won the lottery of
recording deals, while Sam discovered stardom came at a high price. Along with
that knowledge came the freebie of all lessons…fantasies were often better than
reality. The last time she’d visited the mall without a trail of vipers eager
to report her purchases she’d been fifteen.
Sheesh!
Was it too much to ask
to have a date the world didn’t scrutinize? Even the loss of her virginity made
headline news. That act should’ve come with the expectation of privacy. Thanks
to the tabloids, Jase almost burst a blood vessel over that exploitation.
Once she’d picked her
nose in public on purpose because a rag-reporter stalked her. Scratched her
butt on another occasion. Gave them something to write. Those were the
photographs and articles that gave her incentive to laugh.
“The only reason
they’re not pressing charges is because of Jase.”
“Thanks for the
reminder.” Along with it came the reminder that her brother sent Heath instead
of coming himself.
Despite the
news-hounds, she got out of a lot of shit thanks to her brother’s identity.
This incident would be all over the rags and Internet before morning.
‘Hot Wired’s drummer’s sister is at it again!’ They’d go on to paint her wild and immoral comportment.
Have at it you fucks. Can’t hurt me any more than
you already have, but what about the band?
Distance from Hot
Wired would aid all of them. She’d get her peace of mind back, and they’d be
devoid of the rebel-rouser in their group.
She’d mentioned
changing her last name and moving back to their Southern roots in the small
Alabama town where she’d been born. Jase had gone bat-shit crazy at the
suggestion and went on and on about how their parents would be rolling over in
their grave at her abandoning the family name.
The name-change idea
had been discarded. Swept under the rug like a dust bunny never to be spoken of
again.
Torn between two
worlds, Sam was suffocating. Living with someone she couldn’t have in a world
where she didn’t belong.
She sank back down
onto the bench and lay down on the uncomfortable metal, staring at the ceiling.
“Go away, Heath. I’m not in the mood for a lecture.”
A sigh came from him,
followed by a long pause. She anticipated he’d argue, but she focused on the
water spot marring the tiled ceiling and prepared herself to fight back.
The sound of his
retreating boots hitting concrete echoed in the room. His exit surprised her,
but relieved her too. Faced with his disappointment, she vowed again she’d terminate her criminal
behavior.
She settled the
backside of her wrist against her forehead. She made that promise to herself
often and botched the good intentions each time.
After a moment, a new set
of footsteps approached the cell. Even with her eyes closed she determined the
intruder wasn’t Heath. In a room full of guests, she could identify his gait.
Heath’s solid steps and long stride made for a unique swagger that bespoke his
self-confidence. Celebrated his rocker status. Watching him walk compared to
admiring art. Ogling his ass as he strode away…eye-gasms.
This individual’s
fast-paced walk reminded her of the peppered rounds of gunfire. She waited for
the person to speak. The clink of metal striking metal and locks disengaging
snagged her attention. She turned her head. The thirty-something deputy swung
the cell-door open. “You’re free to go, Ms. Collins.”
Sam rolled off the
bench and grinned at the officer as she sidled past him. She’d bragged as they
booked her that they wouldn’t hold her long and the charges wouldn’t stick.
In the lobby, Heath
waited for her with his hands shoved in his jeans pocket. His shaggy-butchered
hair shadowed his eyes, doing a good job of hiding his expression, but the hard
line of his jaw indicated he’d married his irritation. Lectures were sure to
come.
Looking at him, no one
would guess he rocked the panties off chicks worldwide. With his long-sleeved,
pull-over black shirt, sporting a white skull, his snug well-worn jeans and
scuffed boots, he appeared as average as any hard American worker.
That’s what I need to warm my cold bed. Average. Not my brother’s best
friend and rock star god.
There was nothing
average about Heath Fangor—Fang to his band mates and the world. Neither would
he seduce her. Not even as a one-time gig. The man and his fucked up
principals…or maybe they were her
fucked up principals because she couldn’t say for sure if she’d enter into a
one-night-stand with him if he begged for one. She wanted more, and a
one-nighter would be difficult to live with.
“Thanks for the bail
out, Fang.” She breezed past him with
all intention of snubbing him, but he caught her arm. He held on tight, giving
her a warning glare when she tried to jerk free.
“Don’t be ungrateful,
brat.” He towed her toward the elevator.
“Thanks for the
autograph, Fang!” She glanced back at the deputy who’d released her from the
cell. He waved a piece of paper at them, grinning ear-to-ear.
Heath shoved her into
the lift. The moment the doors shut, he slammed his palms down on either side
of her head. Sam sucked in a breath, her eyes frozen on his sexy-ass mouth. The
bottom lip was slightly puffier than the top, nice and pink, and wet. He’d
probably licked them, which explained the sheen. She had naughty fantasies with
them as the star of the show navigating her body. The damage she suspected they
could accomplish created a slippery situation in her panties.
A slight tilt of his
lips before he said, “Eyes on mine.”
She refocused and
locked onto his silver gaze. The accusations she saw there struck her like a
blow to the gut. Looking away would be easier, but Heath had a way of holding
her to a higher level with just a penetrating stare. His expectations were
tall, and she despised him for having such grand aspirations for her.
“What’s gotten into
you? Base diving—”
“That was fun. You
should try it.”
“—bar brawls, knifing
chicks in Miami—”
“Hey! I was found
innocent of that allegation!”
Elevating his
eyebrows, he called her statement a lie without uttering a word.
“—and now you’re
adding grand theft auto to your long
list of offenses.”
Where you can stalk me—not really!—but I do love to meet
and interact with readers:
Twitter:
@GracenMiller
Buy
Links:
Barnes & Noble: http://www.smarturl.it/RockintheHeart
Great piece! Your books sound awesome! Hugs, Love and Great Karma!
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