Happy Breathless Monday! Welcome back Spencer Dryden. Today he brings a holiday Flirt called Then, One Frozen Christmas Eve. Take it away Spencer!
1. How did you start writing erotic romance? With pen and paper then I switched to my laptop where I do most of my writing now. Seriously though, I had aspirations of writing non-fiction for a long time and in another life I wrote regularly for professional trade journals. I never was an avid fiction reader so I didn't give much consideration to writing fiction. Then one day I find myself at 62 thinking that I better try some of the things I've dreamed about or I'm going to go to my grave with nothing for the people at my wake to talk about. I started writing some fiction-short stories. A friend who is an accomplished playwright read my stuff and told me I should be writing fiction. I have been enchanted by female allure all my life so writing erotica was a natural attraction for me.
2. Plotter or pantster? Panster but trying to become a plotter. I write mainly short works. I'd like to expand but know I'll have to get comfortable plotting.
3. What are three things you have on your writing desk? My laptop, a notebook where I keep hard copies of drafts , and a box of kleenex.
4. Favorite food? I'm going to say Brussel sprouts, not because I like them, I don't, but I'm trying not to think about cookies-my favorite food. I've put on a bunch of weight in the last two years and I know I've got to be eating more Brussel sprouts and fewer cookies.
5. Tell us a little about your new release. What character in the book really spoke to you? "Then, One Frozen Christmas Eve", is a short story in my growing collection of tradesmen stories. My MC (Don Palmer) is a heating technician sent out on a job on freezing cold Christmas Eve. He meets a woman (Becky) who is in danger of freezing to death without the furnace he can't repair. When he discovers she has no money and no place to go he invites her to stay with him. She is immediately attracted to him and being a bold woman, begins to turn on the heat. Don suffers from terrible feelings of sexual inadequacy, so he misses the cues. He fantasizes about a romantic connection with Becky but doubts his sex appeal. Don is a lot like me in my single years.
6. I write because ____it is a fun safe way of living out may fantasies. As an erotic writer I can sleep with any woman I want and my wife could care less. How cool is that?
7. What is your favorite type of character to write about? My favorite type of character is an ordinary guy, typically a tradesman, a little bit clueless, who falls into the orbit of a sexually assertive woman.
8. What is the sexiest scene you ever wrote? I think it's the love scene in my recent flirt, "Love Above See Level". I have a tall girl teaching a shorter man how to make love to her. I have a thing for tall women.
9. What advice would you give new authors in the erotica/romance field? Concentrate on telling a story, hopefully a compelling story and make the sex a natural part of the story rather than the center of attention.
10. What is next on your writerly horizon? I have another of my handyman tales due out in January, a novella, "The Substitute". I've been working on a mermaid story for a long time that I hope to get accepted for publication.
On a freezing cold Christmas Eve, a broken furnace unites a lonely heating technician and his client who is forced out of her home.
On a snowy, frigid Christmas Eve in Minnesota, a heating technician makes an emergency call to a townhome without heat. Don is unable to repair the unit and tells Becky, the occupant, she must vacate the premises and stay in a hotel for her own safety. Becky breaks down and tells Don she has no money and no place to go. She has no friends or family locally and has maxed out her credit cards relocating from San Diego. Don invites her to stay with him until the furnace can be replaced.
Don is smitten by her good looks and warm, inviting manor. He begins to fantasize about a romantic connection, but is restrained by a crippling fear of his sexual inadequacy. Safe at his apartment, Becky turns up the heat on the shy divorcee. Can she melt his fears of intimacy and give him an unforgettable Christmas?
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It was more than the combination of fear and hope in her eyes. I see that all the time as a heating and cooling technician. It was something else. Something erotic that made my cock stir as I stepped into her chilly townhome. My cock was buried under three layers of warm clothing—it was twenty-four cock-shrinking degrees below zero outside—but there had always been a path from eyes to cock. Usually it was a luscious pair of breasts pouring from a peek-a-boob shirt, or a firm, round ass that flashed the go code from eyes to groin. All fair-weather sightings. She was so deeply layered in mismatched clothing there was no sign of her sexuality, except for her sparkling blue eyes that quickly changed from fearful to full of mirth and a hint of lust. They were stroking my cock.
This surreal moment had been orchestrated by mother nature, who decided on December 23 to dump a paralyzing thirty inches of snow on Minneapolis, followed the next day, Christmas Eve, by an artic blast locals call a Polar Vortex. It drags extremely cold air directly from the North Pole. This isn't the cold of some cutesy Hallmark Channel romance movie where a couple trapped in quaint cabin by a winter snow rekindle an old love between commercials for Viagra and pain relievers. This is bone-chilling, mind-numbing, dangerous cold, where just a few minutes of unprotected exposure causes severe frostbite. It's one of the reasons we native Minnesotans aren't all that fashionable six months out of the year. We'd rather be warm than look hot.
My employer, a big heating and air-conditioning contractor, had cancelled all Christmas vacation requests the minute the snow started flying. Didn't matter. The airport and interstate highways were closed. Without a four-wheel drive tank like my service truck, negotiating city streets was difficult, if not impossible.
Heating systems were failing due to the extreme conditions. It made the cash register ring for my employer. As much as I hated it, the crisis offered me lots of overtime, earning pay at time and a half. I even volunteered to be on call for Christmas Day, which paid triple time. I didn't have anywhere else to go anyhow. My wife left me for my best ex-friend Ray six months ago. Sometimes in the quiet of the evening, I still heard her gasping in ecstasy as I came through the front door. I was home early, only to find her beneath Ray, her legs splayed wide as he rammed her furiously. She never made that kind of joyful noise when we made love. It took my breath and my heart. I had turned on my heel and walked out.
Spencer Dryden is a new writer but an old guy on the threshold of draining any reserves left in Medicare and Social Security. In real life he is a handyman, an at-home dad, inventor, and web videographer living a quiet life in the frozen tundra of Minnesota (USA).
He earned an MBA from a prestigious Midwestern university, but is so far behind on the career earnings scale of his peers that the university has offered to refund his tuition if he will return his diploma and disavow his affiliation, lest he continue to denigrate the school's impeccable brand.
His first book, a novella, Bliss was published in April of 2014 in the Covert line at Breathless Press. It is a story of a woman's struggle with sexual shame. http://www.breathlesspress.com/index.php?main_page=product_free_shipping_info&cPath=26&products_id=559
He can be reached at multiple locations:
Check out his website: http://www.fictionbyspencer.com/
He's on Google +: https://plus.google.com/+SpencerDryden
Tweet him at: @SpencerDryden
He is a regular contributor to the multi-author blog, Oh Get A Grip: http://ohgetagrip.blogspot.com
And Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100008150288001
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