Hello readers! Beverley has graciously allowed me to post on her blog today. My name is Fiona McGier, and I write romances.
I sub in high schools during the school year. Otherwise I’m writing and blogging about my books–and reading and writing reviews. Not only do I write erotic romance, I love to read it too. I often read while camping with my long-time HEA. Our four adult kids sometimes join us. I also enjoy sewing–mostly masks these days– crocheting afghans to keep my loved ones warm, and baking–cookies, muffins, and especially pies. I’m known for my never-fail pie crust, so I put the recipe on my website under the pies tab, along with some of my family’s favorites, that I featured in one of my books that had a heroine who baked lots of pies.
Beverley: Which genre or genres do you write or prefer to write? And why?
Fiona: My usual genre is Contemporary, because as I point out on my blog page, the idea of sex without birth control is very scary indeed! I’m old enough to remember when it wasn’t available at all for Mom and my aunts–and I worry for my children, that the choices might not always be there for them.
That being said, I’ve had dreams that present me with entire story arcs. I even had one character speak to me directly in a dream, telling me I was having writer’s block because I was giving the heroine the wrong hero–it had to be him. That one turned out to my only vampire romance (so far.)
Beverley: Who influenced you the most in deciding to become a writer?
Fiona: That would be my mom and her sisters, who used to trade grocery store bags full of romances back and forth. I was allowed to read them when I got older. I can remember watching as Mom drop-kicked a book across the room, yelling at the author, “All that build-up and NO sex? I’m never reading YOU again!” LOL. So I make sure that there are steamy, open-door scenes in all of my books. I like to read stories like that, and I know Mom did–I hope there are other readers who agree with us!
Beverley: What gets your creative juices flowing?
Fiona: Inspiration for my muse can come from anywhere. A picture of someone I can envision as a heroine or hero–glancing at someone in a public place–dreams–or just fleeting thoughts during a daydream. Sometimes my muse gets bossy, but I like her like that. I hope she never stops prodding me to write!
Beverley: Do you have a favorite cartoon character? Why?
Fiona: I’m going to show my age here, but I’ve always liked the Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoons. My favorite character is Natasha Fatale, the Russian spy who works with Boris Badenov. (a play on an actual Russian name–“Goodenov.”) Natasha knows that the guy she’s working with is an idiot, but she has no choice–he’s her boss. I’ve always thought it would be really cool to be the secret agent who gets to travel all around the world, doing things that hopefully make the planet a safer place. That’s why I like to write about female spies.
Beverley: Who would you love most to meet” in person” and why?
Fiona: Me faither (father) was from Glesga (Glasgow), brought up poor. After WWII was over, he moved to Chicago. He took his bride home to meet his parents once, but back then it was a long journey on an ocean liner. Mom got pregnant with me on that trip, and once you have kids, you have lots more expenses. We were never able to go visit my grandparents, and they couldn’t afford to come here. So I never met them. If I could, I’ve love to travel to Scotland to meet them–and to let my gramma know that I got her wedding ring after her daughter passed away, and it will be on my right-hand ring finger until I pass on–then it will belong to my daughter.
Beverley: If you had an unexpected free day what would you do with it?
Fiona: Unless I’m actually camping, I always want to be–so if I got any time off, I’d love to head into the woods, set up our tiny Scamp camper, and make myself at home. Then I could hike in the woods to enjoy breathing in the fresh oxygen, and hug a few trees. I’d go back to my campsite to listen to the birds while I read.
Beverley: What are you working on now?
Fiona: I have 3 or 4 stories in various stages of completion in my laptop. I alternate which one I’m working on. I’m also re-editing 3 more of my books I self-published on Smashwords. And I’m reading and reviewing for the TBRPile review site. I’m also sewing masks for family and friends. I keep busy.
I never set out to write a series–I just write a story. But often I get so fond of the supporting characters, that I have to write subsequent book(s) after that, because the characters loudly demand that I do so. I wrote Secret Lover because I’ve always loved spy movies and TV shows, but I’m always frustrated that the only females are usually either damsels in distress, or villains. I want to BE the agent with the mad skills that can save the day. I wrote 2 sequels to this book, Undercover Lovers , and No More Secrets , which also has characters in it from my Minnesota Romances series.
Blurb for Secret Lover:
Sheena has spent 12 years saving the world, one assignment at a time . She enjoys the work, but is getting bored. She tries her usual cure; a new man. What starts out as a hot affair with a famous action movie star becomes serious–she develops feelings. And in her world, even having feelings is dangerous. Indulging them by falling in love can be deadly–for both of them.
Excerpt from Secret Lover:
Sheena had to leave the man she fell for in a hurry, when she got her next assignment. She hasn’t seen him for two years–agents are not supposed to get attached to anyone, for everyone’s safety. She walks into a Hollywood party with the IRA cell she’s embedded with, so the boys can bed some babes while they wait for a gun shipment. She’s horrified when the man she can’t see again is up on the stage, playing with the band–while watching her. She runs upstairs to hide in the bathroom, to figure out how to leave without being outed –or worse.
She jumped at the sound of someone pounding on the bathroom door. “It’s occupied.” She shouted loudly, hoping to get them to go away.
After a short pause, the pounding started again.
“Go away! Find another bathroom!” She yelled louder, starting to channel her emotional upheaval into the safety of controlled anger, which instantly made her feel calmer and more herself.
The pounding only got more insistent.
Anger is good , she thought, as she stomped over to the door to fling it open, yelling, “What the fuck is your problem?”
“You are.” Hickory Woods pushed her back into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.
“What are you doing up here?” She hated the panic that suddenly threatened to overwhelm her, as she felt his raw anger wash over her in waves. “Why aren’t you still on the stage? With the band?”
“Why the hell are you with him ?” His anger, made the room feel cramped. “I thought you said you couldn’t be seen in public with celebrities like me. In you stroll with him, the current flavor of the month, and I had to watch him groping you?” He loomed dangerously over her.
She backed away from him, to find herself trapped by the wall-to-wall counter of the sink behind her. “That’s none of your business.” She was aware of how vulnerable her voice sounded, but not able to get it under control yet.
“Just like your leaving me in Berlin was none of my business?” His face was dark, and his voice dripped with scorn and anger. “You never told me what your business is. At this point, I’m guessing high-class hooker. Was I a freebie, or are you just behind in your billing?”
“Cory, just let me leave, and forget about me, okay?” She tried not to sound like she was pleading. She had spent years perfecting how to order men around, but right at this moment, she would have begged if it would get her away from this man she still wanted so much, but had hurt so badly.
His eyes were wild as he pushed forward with his hips, to trap her between the sink counter and the unmistakable bulge in his pants. “I can’t forget about you, damn it! That’s the problem. You’re in my blood. I want you so bad I can taste it!” His hands grabbed her urgently, and he ran them along her naked back, down to the cleft in her behind, watching his hands move in the mirror behind her. He gripped her hips and ground himself into her. With a groan, he moved one hand up to grab her hair and force her face up to accept his kiss, a punishing battering of her lips with his.
She cried out from the pain of her hair being twisted around his hand, and he forced his tongue into her mouth and laid claim to her, despite her objections. Gasping, she tried to push him away, but since she didn’t want to actually hurt him, she couldn’t use any of the skills she had honed over the years. And the truth was that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Her hands crept up along his back as she leaned into him, pressing herself against him with strength of passion equal to his own.
He groaned again, as he became aware that she had stopped denying him.
Buy link for Secret Lover: