Author Interview with Jane Graves and Giveaway

Meet Jane Graves, author of Baby, It's You.

New York Times bestselling author Jane Graves is a nine-time finalist for Romance Writers of America's RITA Award, the industry's highest honor, and is the recipient of two National Readers' Choice Awards, the Booksellers' Best Award, and the Golden Quill, among others. Jane lives in the Dallas area with her husband and a very sweet kitty who kindly keeps her lap warm while she writes. You can write to her at jane@janegraves.com. She'd love to hear from you!

Find Jane at:

| Site | Facebook | Twitter | 

A la Twitter style, please describe your book in 140 characters or less.
A man desperate to rid his life of complications rescues a runaway bride, only to discover she has more baggage than a 747.

What types of scenes are your most favorite to write?
The ones that have a lot of conflict, banter, and comedy. I don’t really like to write love scenes…unless they have a lot of conflict, banter, and comedy.

If you could have dinner with any three authors (alive or dead), who would you choose and why?
Harper Lee. To Kill a Mockingbird is probably my favorite book of all time. I’d love to know what kept her from writing another book.

Malcolm Gladwell. I read a lot of nonfiction, and his books The Tipping Point, Blink, and Outliers fascinated me. I just think he’d be interesting to talk to.

Stephen King. Since I was in high school, his novels have thoroughly and completely scared the living hell out of me. I’d love to meet the man whose mind works like that.

What are you favorite types of stories to read?
Anything that makes me laugh.

Last question, are you working on anything right now?
I’m working on a contemporary romance series about three bridesmaids at a destination wedding who receive a strange prediction from a mysterious Jamaican woman. Before the next full moon, each of them will be with the men of their dreams. But they won’t be meeting these men for the first time. They know them already. When each woman finds out who her “dream man” must be, she can’t believe the prediction is true. But against all odds, as the full moon approaches, she finds herself falling in love.

The titles are Moon Over Manhattan, Moon Over Malibu, and Moon Over Montana, with a lead-in novella, Moon Over Montego Bay. Watch my website at www.janegraves.com for covers and publication dates.

Question for readers: How do you feel about romantic comedy? Do you like laughter with your romance? What are your favorite romantic comedy movies?

With only the wedding dress on her back and her honeymoon luggage in the car, Kari Worthington is running away. Determined to put her controlling father, her rigidly structured life, and the uptight groom she left at the altar in her rearview mirror, she escapes to the Texas Hill country . . . and lands on a tall, dark, and gorgeous winery owner's doorstep. All she needs is a job and a place to live until she can get back on her feet. So why is she fantasizing about losing herself in his powerful arms?

For Marc Cordero, freedom is so close he can taste it. He's devoted his life to managing the family business and being a single dad. Now with his daughter away at college and his brother taking over the winery, Marc is ready to hop on his Harley for parts unknown-until a runaway bride bursts onto the scene. Free-spirited and tantalizingly sexy, Kari excites him like no other woman has before. But when irresistible passion turns into something more, will Marc give up his future to take a chance on love?

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And now he was kissing her and loving every minute of it. She returned his kiss with a fierceness that astonished him. He loved the way she tasted sweet and hot and silky smooth everything he'd imagined she would be. It was as if he'd fallen into an alternate universe, one where a beautiful woman had appeared in front of him and all the restrictions he'd put on his love life for the past eighteen years had been blasted away.

Then her hands were on his shirt buttons, flicking them open with the enthusiasm of a prospector who'd spotted gold and was going after it. If he'd been in his right mind he might have call a halt to this. But not only had he lost his train of thought, it had veered off the track and plunged over a cliff.

It's just you, this woman, and nobody else. What do you need? An engraved invitation? Go for it!

He ripped off his shirt and tossed it aside, then went for her robe. He loosened the tie and pushed it off her shoulders, and she gave a little shimmy and it dropped to the floor behind her. He saw what she had on underneath it and froze. Leopard print panties. And that was all.

Holy shit.

He felt like some kind of Pavlov's dog where this woman's panties were concerned. What could she possibly wear that didn't turn him on?

His gaze rose to her breasts. It was just as he'd suspected. They were the Eighth Wonder of the World, clearly the ones God gave her, so he felt justified in deciding they were just about perfect. He spread his hands wide over them and rubbed them in circles, squeezing, releasing, kissing her deeply at the same time.

Just touching her made his jeans grow tighter by the second. He shifted, trying to take away the exquisite pain, but only one thing was going to cure that problem. He couldn't remember ever wanting a woman this much. He was dying to make love to her, willing to walk through fire for it.

He pulled away and sat down on the sofa to yank off his boots. When he stood again, she pressed her hands against his chest and dragged them down to his belt buckle. In no time she had his belt off and then he was kicking both his jeans and underwear aside. She fell back on the sofa, and he stopped for a hard-breathing moment to stare down at her.

"My God," he whispered.

"Don't stop now."

He sprang into action again, sliding those leopard panties down her hot, silky thighs. He pulled them all the way off and tossed them aside.

"Damn," he muttered. "Sofa bed. Gotta pull it out."

"Forget that," she said. "Don't need it. Right here. Just like this."

Her eyes were alight with excitement, those green eyes that had messed up his mind in ways he'd never felt before. All he wanted to do was fall on top of her, slide inside, and make love to her until his nerves exploded.

Then he remembered.

Condom. Christ, he didn't have a condom! What the hell was he supposed to do now? Think. Think!

Okay. Daniel stayed at the cottage whenever he was in town. And he never hesitated to entertain women. Lots of women. And that meant he needed lots of condoms. Marc only hoped he'd left a few behind.

"Wait," he told Kari, pointing at her. "Don't move. Do not move!"

He jerked open the dresser drawer and plowed through it. He shoved pens, notepads, paperclips, and other assorted junk aside. Come on, Daniel. Don't let me down now!

Then he saw it. A whole freaking box of condoms. He opened the box and snagged one of the plastic packets. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Would she think it was weird if he kissed it?

He ripped it open. Rolled it on. Then he turned, fell between her legs, and slid inside her, groaning out loud with the sheer pleasure of it. She was so hot and tight that he damned near came on the spot. He wanted to go slow. Knew he should. But it had been too long. Too damned long, and now he couldn't get enough. He had to move hard and fast. Had to. His brain was telling him to go slow, but his body was telling him to hit the gas. His body was winning. Kari's fingertips dug into his back, and no matter how hard he thrust, she lifted her hips to meet him, urging him on, and that shoved him even closer to the brink. Her breath was fiery hot against his neck, coming faster and faster with every stroke.

Then she gasped, a single sharp intake of air. Then the gasp became a groan of pleasure. Her thighs tightened around him. She whispered his name between hot, heavy breaths. He whispered hers.

And then he was coming.

He plunged deep inside her, gritting his teeth against the indescribable sensations. Oh, God…this was it. What he'd wanted for so long, what he'd lain awake nights thinking about. Maybe any woman would have made him feel this way. Or maybe she had to have wild auburn hair. Electric green eyes. Breasts to die for. Long, tanned legs he could slide his hands up until they reached the promised land.

He lifted himself away from her, then sat down on the end of the sofa, his breath still labored, his body still a boneless mass of pure ecstasy. Kari sat up next to him, leaning in to kiss his neck.

"Hang around for a while," she whispered. "You never know what might pop up again later."

Check out what's up for grabs.

Up For Grabs:

• 1 Eastport Wine Basket + a print copy of Baby, It's You
• 10 print copy of Baby, It's You

To Enter: 

• Please answer Jane's question: How do you feel about romantic comedy? Do you like laughter with your romance? What are your favorite romantic comedy movies?
• US Shipping ONLY.
• Please fill out the Rafflecopter form.

Good Luck! 

Special thanks to Jane Graves & Forever Romance for sponsoring this tour-wide giveaway.

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