Amber Lea Easton is a multi-published fiction and nonfiction author. For twenty years, she's worked in the fields of journalism and advertising with a brief detour into the financial industry. Although she holds a BA in Communications & Journalism, she is a perpetual student of life who enjoys taking post-graduate courses on a wide variety of subjects when time allows. Smart is sexy, according to Easton, which is why she writes about strong female characters who have their flaws and challenges, but who ultimately persevere.Easton currently lives with her two teenagers in the Colorado Rocky Mountains where she gives thanks daily for the gorgeous view outside her window. She finds inspiration from traveling, the people she meets, nature and life’s twists and turns. At the end of the day, as long as she's writing, she considers herself to be simply "a lucky lady liv'n the dream."
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A bit of mayhem
Thanks, Danielle, for hosting me today during my virtual book tour. I truly appreciate it. As the stops start piling up behind me, I admit I wonder if I’ll have any ideas about what to write on the next blog. But, as I sit here today in my usual state of disheveled chaos, I thought I’d write about that--the mayhem that is my real life.
Sometimes I say I was born to be a novelist because my life is a series of misadventures that often leave me wondering, “what the heck was that about?” My friends usually shake their heads at me and laugh when I answer the question, “so, Amber Lea, what’s going on in you life lately?”
Despite the sign that’s hanging behind me in my office that says, “Spare me the drama”, I seem to encounter a lot of it in my day to day. But, if you think about it, most of us do. As a writer, however, I’m able to make it into a story, spin a tale, and find the humor (most of the time).
Lately, my misadventures involve re-entering the dating world at age 44. I’m a widow--have been for 7 years--and, until recently, didn’t consider dating, mainly because I’ve been busy solo-parenting and working. Now here I am, what I sometimes jokingly refer to as the ex-hot girl, trying figure out how to turn my vast romance novelist knowledge into real world savvy.
Yeah, I’m not as cool as my sassy characters, that’s for sure--and not nearly as physically in shape as they are either! As I twist my body into poses during yoga or shake my booty during Zumba, my mind is filled with to-do lists that involve getting the kids to and from whatever sports practice is happening to wondering about the work in progress that needs final revisions. I’m not exactly fully into the moment and, seriously, my thick thighs simply aren’t whittling down fast enough to make me happy.
The man I’m dating now is wonderful, but he’s admitted to being a bit daunted by my career as a romantic suspense novelist and the fact that I’m a solo parent. The words he used last time we saw each other were, “that’s a lot to ask someone to take on”. Umm...didn’t ask him for one darn thing! Do you know how frustrating that is for me? I can’t do anything about being a widowed mom and I happen to love my career...so what if it happens to involve writing sizzling sex scenes? I’m not exactly graceful--tend to spill things, drop silverware, say whatever comes to mind and laugh too loudly. Oh, and then there’s those darn thighs! (maybe that’s what he meant by a lot to take on? LOL)
I truly do feel like the ex-hot girl who in her 20s dated effortlessly and often. Now everything is harder. I’m proud of the fact that I’m a solo parent who’s raising two very good kids (knock on wood) and has a great career. Why is that intimidating? I don’t get it. I’m confused.
I write about romance because I married a wonderful man who I was lucky to know and love for 10 years. I know how to love someone and to let my heart be filled up. Yes, I’m a walking adventure most of the time--who knows what will happen when I leave the house?--but I’m always interesting. I write about romance because I truly do believe in love and only hope that I get a second chance with someone who loves a bit of mayhem in his life.
One violent night shatters Lauren Biltmore’s life. As an anchorwoman, she's accustomed to reporting the news rather than being the lead story. She escapes the spotlight by fleeing to her brother's home in the Cayman Islands. Haunted by nightmares, all she wants is a distraction from reality.
Distraction arrives via sexy screenwriter, Noah Reynolds. His take-me-to-bed looks mask a past ripe with scandal. He knows he should stay away from Lauren, especially when the worst night of her life unlocks his writer's block and while he's dealing with a stalker of his own, but ethics are his weakness.
Attraction sizzles beneath Caribbean sunshine. As their relationship grows, Noah's stalker intensifies her torment. Lauren wonders if her paranoia is justified or a carryover from her past. What's real? What's imagined? Tentative trust is tested as their love is swept up against a riptide of deceit, murder, and revenge.
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“I like this,” she said.
“Like what? Manual labor?”
It was more than that, but words escaped her.
“I started doing all of this because I needed to keep busy, keep moving, keep my mind distracted.” He fingered the sandpaper, a distant expression on his face. Dust grayed his hair and shirt, bare feet poked out from the frayed hem of his jeans. “Have you done that? Have you purposely distracted yourself from dealing with what happened to you?”
Here we go. Serious discussion. With a sigh, she pressed her back against the cabinet opposite him, their bare feet touching in the middle of the floor.
She didn’t want to go there—to that place of honesty that everyone from her therapist to her best friend Janet had begged her to go for months—but Austin had been right when he’d said Noah was an easy person to talk to. Despite his take-me-to-bed-and-strip-me-naked looks, he exuded compassion.
“Work did that for as long as possible until I couldn’t...do it anymore. And exercise. What is it they say? Endorphins are nature’s anti-depressants? Something like that.”
“It’s paid off.” His gaze slipped over her bare legs.
She melted. “Well, your house looks great. Distraction has paid off for you, too.”
“I suppose it has.” His laugh reminded her of secrets and promises and whispers in the night.
“You’re a proponent of distraction then?” She crawled toward him. Consequences be damned, her hormones screamed. Fear had ruled her life for too long. She wanted her freedom back. She needed a diversion. She craved a taste of him.
“What’re you doing?” He dropped the back of his head against the cabinet and watched her through half-closed eyes. “Don’t come any closer.”
“Why not? Are you scared?” Hands braced over his head. Boldness pumped through her.
“Terrified.”
“Know what I find irresistible?”
“I have an idea.”
“I’m a real mess, you know.” She had to say it, warn him, give him a chance to push her away.
“So am I. Together we’d be a disaster.” His fingers slid beneath the T-shirt, skimmed her bare back, and teased under the strap of the swimsuit. “Am I your distraction then? Something to keep you busy? Is that what this is about, Lauren? Do you want to use me to distract you?”
His question stopped her from taking what she wanted. A fraction from his lips, she stared into those whiskey-colored eyes. “Maybe. Does that bother you?”
“Probably should, if I had any sense or moral decency, but not really.” He yanked the T-shirt over her head and tossed it aside. “Last chance for you to run away, no hard feelings.”
“I’m tired of running away.” She brushed her lips against his. A taste is what she wanted, needed like oxygen. “No strings. No complications.”
“This could get complicated.” He smiled against her mouth.
“Not if we’re clear about what we want.” With one pull, she tore those two buttons free from his shirt. Finally. Skin. “I don’t want deep or complicated. No plans. Just sex. Easy.”
“Just sex, huh?” He grabbed her ass and pulled her close. “I like easy, uncomplicated, string-free sex.”
Their mouths met and devoured one another, tongues clashing. Her hands were in his hair, on his shoulders, skimming over his chest. She needed more, wanted more. That she barely knew him didn’t matter. What mattered was that he made her feel alive for the first time in months, that he knew about her past and didn’t give a damn.
He rolled her onto her back, thigh slipping between hers. Their mouths never parted. The denim on his leg rubbed against her bare thigh. His weight pressed her into the plastic that covered the hard tiles.
She arched upward, craving contact. She pulled his shirt off, her hands needing to touch the hardness of his shoulders. Touching him, tasting him, feeling his mouth on her skin and his hips pressing into hers reaffirmed that she was alive in every possible way.
“Why do I feel like I’m going to burn in hell for this?” he asked against her open mouth.
“Now who’s over thinking things?” She tugged at his lower lip with her mouth.
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I know what you mean about asking for no drama! It seems like I can't escape it most of the times. But, I do think that the drama helps me grow and develop as a person. Is there any one time in particular you felt like you grew after dealing with the drama?
ReplyDeleteWell, after my husband died I went through quite a growth period. I felt like I'd lost my entire identity as wife, stay-at-home-mom who freelanced for fun money, best friend--it was a tremendous upheaval to say the least. From that, I also lost a lot of my "couple" friends who eventually didn't ask the "widow" to all the events they used to. I needed to adjust accordingly while guiding two kids through grief and trauma, too. It was hard, but I am such a better person now. I really trust myself to handle anything. I have a deeper spirituality, too, that helps me live my life solo. I never thought I'd be able to say that after such a devastating event in my life, but I truly feel peaceful and happy at my core now. Took A LOT to get here, though, but I've definitely grown. Thanks for the question!
DeleteMy sister lost her husband 3 years ago. She has 3 children and it has been a long rough road. I lived with her the first year to help her with the kids. She is doing better now, but she still has her days. I can understand in a way the changes your life has taken.
DeleteThis sounds like a great book. I loved the excerpt and would love to read more about Lauren & Noah, and how they deal with her attacker, his stalker, & their new relationship.
ReplyDeleteGood luck with your dating and trying to find love again. It is great that you had a wonderful man to love and I am sure that helped to influence your writing. I don't see what was too much for someone to "take on". Maybe he was just too immature to deal with a successful woman and mother of two. As for the thighs, I think all women have something they battle. Mine is pretty much everything, lol.