Hi Amie! So great to welcome you back to my blog - it's been too long! Looking forward to catching up and hearing all about your latest release, Southern Hospitality. Let's kick off with my questions...
1.) What did you want to be when you grew up?
An attorney. Quit laughing. I really did. Right up until the time I met my husband. Now I can’t imagine my life any other way than how it turned out.
2.) Coffee, tea or hot chocolate?
Yes, please. Oh, you wanted me to choose? Well, coffee usually, but right now I’m on a Chai tea latte kick. Yum-mee
3.) What genre do you typically read? Why?
Although I LOVE romances of all kinds, I find myself reading more and more women’s fiction. I think because I don’t have a desire to rewrite the stories like I do when I read romance.
4.) Share a favourite childhood memory.
I spent a lot of time with my grandmother when I was growing up. She lived within walking distance and I probably went to visit her every day. I would walk up to her house and watch TV and just be with her. She would always make me my favourite meal. As I got older, we shared romance novels. I only wish she had gotten to see my books in print.
5.) Do you have any shameless addictions? ie. Tea, Books, Shoes, Clothes?
Nail polish. I’ve lost count of how many bottles I own. But it is seriously in the triple digits. Just don’t tell my husband, okay?
6.) What do you think is the biggest challenge of writing a new book?
Getting started. There’s a push/pull between what I want to do as an author and what the characters demand from me. The quicker I give in to their demands, the faster the story goes.
7.) Do you aim for a set amount of words/pages a day?
I do. I write anywhere from 4K to 8K a day depending on where I am in the story and how dirty my house is.
8.) What are your thoughts on writing a book series?
I love writing series. They can be fun and engaging, but honestly it’s more fun to write stand-alones. There’s more freedom with characters that I don’t think I can get when having to concentrate on how what I’m writing today will affect the next story. Maybe that’s why so many of my stories are not in a series.
the latest contemporary romantic comedy from Amie Louellen.
Not much happens in sleepy Jefferson County, Tennessee. That is, until Yankee reporter Roxanne Ackerman’s car breaks down there on her way to Memphis, and she somehow winds up as a murder suspect! With no one to bail her out and the local judge on a fishing trip, Roxanne is surrendered into the custody of her ultra-conservative-yet-oh-so-sexy attorney, Malcolm B. Daniels IV, for the weekend.
Malcolm is nearly engaged, running for U.S. Senate, and really does not need this gorgeous, wild woman in his life right now. He just has to show her a little Southern hospitality until he can get the case dropped on Monday morning, and things will finally go back to normal.
But the more time they spend together, the more sparks fly between them. One weekend might be all the time Roxanne needs to work her way into his heart and make his life exciting again. What if, when Monday comes, he doesn’t want to let her go?
~*~ Excerpt ~*~
He never even bothered to look at her. It seemed as if something over her shoulder held more interest for him. Most likely Lila dancing with Miss Gertie’s great-nephew from Hattiesburg. Malcolm was probably keeping an eye on the pair just to make sure the handsome doctor wasn’t copping a feel.
After all, she and Malcolm were practically engaged.
The thought made Roxanne miss the beat, and she crashed into Malcolm—hard. Her foot, clad in its high-heeled sandal, crashed down on top of his foot—hard.
“Sorry.” She winced. That was going to leave a mark.
“It’s okay,” he replied, just like the gentleman he was.
“I know you might find this hard to believe, but I used to be a pretty good dancer.”
“No offense, but what happened?”
She shrugged. “Out of practice, I guess.”
“Hmmm … I thought dancing was one of those things a person never forgets how to do. You know, like riding a bike.”
“Sex.” Roxanne immediately wished she could take it back.
“I beg your pardon?” He picked that precise moment to meet her gaze.
“You can forget how to ride a bike, but you’ll never … I mean … most people have—” She faltered, the heat from her cheeks mixing with the too-warm Tennessee night to make her light-headed. She couldn’t finish the thought with those knowing brown eyes trained on her. Instead, she focused on the tiny black sutures adorning his strong chin.
“Are you trying to say that sex is unforgettable?” The corners of his mouth twitched.
“Uh … something like that,” she mumbled, hoping the slurred words passed for a real answer. Here she was again trying to make coherent thoughts when her mind was filled with images of … well, sex. And Malcolm. And sex with Malcolm. She didn’t know for a fact if sex itself had ever proven to be unforgettable, but she was certain that sex with Malcolm would be.
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