Rebecca will be giving away a $50.00 Amazon.com gift certificate to one randomly drawn commenter during the tour.
As a teenager, Rebecca Royce would hide in her room to read her favorite romance novels when she was supposed to be doing her homework. She hopes, these days, that her parents think it was well worth it.
Rebecca is the mother of three adorable boys and is fortunate to be married to her best friend. They live in northern New Jersey and try not to freeze too badly during the winter months.
She's in love with science fiction, fantasy, and the paranormal and tries to use all of these elements in her writing. She's been told she's a little bloodthirsty so she hopes that when you read her work you'll enjoy the action packed ride that always ends in romance. Rebecca loves to write series because she loves to see characters develop over time and it always makes her happy to see her favorite characters make guest appearances in other books.
In Rebecca Royce's world anything is possible, anything can happen, and you should suspect that it will.
You write erotica how important is location to your story?
Its very important. In several cases, particularly within a series of books, I can see the character’s locations before I see the rest of the story. I have to be able to see it or the readers can’t.
Is it just a backdrop to put characters on or is the location a part of the story?
It’s as important as the characters, to me. For the most part, although I do write erotica, I think that most of my books have pretty involved story lines outside of the sex. The location is pivotal for those parts.
Does the location provide local flavor, i.e., accents and phrases that color the speech or food that plays a part in telling the story?
I have lived in several places that are often depicted in books, for example New York City and New Orleans. I use those places, often, in my own writing. Also, Maine where my sister-in-law lives. If something doesn’t ‘sound’ right to me or is too cliché about one of those areas it throws me out of the story. I’d like to think I do a good job of representing those areas from the way I see them, at least.
Eighteen years earlier, Charma lost her destined soul mate. Convinced he must be dead, she kept her fears to herself so as not to destroy the morale of the Outsiders who already live with a shaky prophecy as their only guide.
Dr. Jason Randall is a man used to getting what he wants. There has never been a problem he couldn't out think or a situation he wasn't capable of handling.
Now they are both hunted by not one but two demons as they lead the slowly forming group of Outsiders out of the darkness and back into the light. The two strong souls will have to decide if prophecy alone is enough reason to stay together through insane odds...or if love is their true fate.
"Oh, Dr. Randall, you are so limited. The Fates, Destiny, the Gods chose you, however it is that you are comfortable describing it. Veli Destrand, before he died, used to call it 'the good side'. He was pretty accurate in that." She laughed. "Such a shame he's dead and you won't get to meet him until I send you to death. But in the mean time you're so exciting to play with."
He didn't see it coming. The electrical current struck his body with what he could only imagine was the force of an eighteen-wheeler. His entire being shook from the experience. His insides burned as if he were a mere piece of toast. Without surprise, he fell to the hard ground.
Breathe. It was nearly impossible to perform that basic function. Eventually, it would pass. He knew this because he'd been going through this experience at least once a day since he'd been stuck in his own mind's creation, but each time she electrocuted him, it seemed to get worse.
No, she was not nuts. He was here. The nameless man—she'd never learned his name—who had been made for her, chosen for her in heaven was in this room.
And, she had felt him die. Felt it the night he hadn't come to their secret garden. It had been like someone had taken a sledge hammer and demolished half of her body and soul with one hit. She'd known he was dead.
Alone. That was how she'd felt. With other people's problems filling her days, nights, and dreams.
Had he been this way since he'd disappeared when he was twelve? Charma's eyes roamed his body for signs. Impossible. He looked too healthy. Muscle tone defined his body. He didn't look like a man who had been endlessly asleep on a bed. His eyes fluttered as if he was in deep REM sleep.
She cleared her throat, afraid to wake him but wanting to at the same time. "Hello."
Nothing. Charma's cheeks warmed. Why had she assumed he'd respond to her? He was in a coma for goodness sake. She was going to have to do more than speak aloud to get his attention.
Jason shook his head. This wasn't going to be easy. Maybe her arrival was a good thing. Maybe she was another piece of the puzzle he needed to solve his dilemma. "Self-loathing, the woman I've invented to come here and cause me tremendous pain as a way to punish myself for killing a man who assaulted me in the parking lot." Jason gestured around the hillside. "This whole thing is one giant guilt trip."
Standing up, her eyebrows pressed inward, and she held a confused look in her eyes. They seemed to be searching for something but he wasn't clear on what.
Finally, she spoke. "Listen to me very carefully. So much of what you just said makes no sense to me and we have zero time to sort it out. I'm not sure how to convince you that what I'm about to tell you is the absolute truth but it is. This is not some grand illusion. Not really."
"That's just what a falsehood that didn't want to be proven wrong would say."