A hearty welcome to author Mari Manning.
Where were you born, Mari? Buffalo, NY
What do you like most about where you live now? I live in Chicago, and there is so much to do.
What’s your favorite season? Because I live in the Midwest, I have to say fall. It’s the best weather, which matters a lot.
What is the worst job you ever had? My worst job was waitress in a college pizza joint, which is probably why I only lasted one day.
Do you have any hobbies? I like to crochet while I watch TV
What is your feeling about social media? My feelings are mixed. I didn’t grow up with social media, so it is a job to use it. I don’t find it relaxing or pleasurable. That said, it is a great way to market my books, and it speeds up everything, which I love.
Tell us something you are really good at. I’m a good writer and a faithful friend. I am a fairly good cook. My specialties are vegetables and baked goods. Go figure.
Can you confide something you’re not good at? I wish I was good at athletics.
What do you enjoy most/least about being a published author? I enjoy writing and knowing other people will enjoy my stories. I don’t enjoy the production and marketing.
How do you deal with writer’s block? Get out a pad of paper and a gel pen and write. For some reason the switch in methodology gets my creativity going again.
Where do you find inspiration for your stories? The romances come from my imagination. My mysteries are torn from the headlines.
Tell us about your latest release.
My latest book, and the second in A Murder in Texas series from Entangled Publishing is Stranger in My House. Here is an overview:
When Officer Kirby Swallow’s half-sister is threatened, Kirby assumes her sister’s identity and journeys to the remote Texas ranch her sister calls home to catch a killer. Kirby confronts a growing list of suspects and a rising body count, not to mention the ranch manager, Seth Maguire, who sees past the charade to the warm, generous girl beneath. But can Kirby trust a man who rejects the one thing she holds dear: family? Her love dares all, but as the killer closes in, will it also be blind?
Self-reliant Seth Maguire is manager of the struggling Shaw Valley Ranch. His future appears empty until the ranch’s wild, unpredictable heiress suddenly morphs into a very hot lady cop. What starts out as just another seduction turns into something deep and, for him, frightening. Then the killer is revealed and Seth is faced with an impossible choice. Will his fragile, uncertain love be enough to save Kirby?
Buy links to all the major electronic sites are here: http://www.entangledpublishing.com/stranger-in-my-house/
Maguire rubbed his chin and studied her. A dangerous gleam lit his eyes. “Never seen you so nosy before.”
Panic squeezed her, then it was gone. He couldn’t prove she wasn’t Frankie, and in a few days she’d be in Tulsa, and Frankie would be back in Shaw Valley. There was nothing more to learn here, and by the looks of him, Maguire needed time to cool down. A dangerous gleam lit his eyes, and his mouth had tightened into a hard line.
“I should go,” she said, stepping back from him.
“Stick around, Frankie. The new you is sort of growing on me.” His gaze swept down her body and landed on her ballet flats. “Maybe you’d like to help me clean the lavender screens. Seeing as you got your sensible shoes on today. You liked feeding the horses, didn’t you? This will be fun, too.”
Her heart thumped. “I’d just be in the way.”
“You helped me last year.” He studied her. “Remember? It was your first week at the ranch, and you came wandering in here. Just like now. Said you wanted to work at my side.” His eyes bored into hers. “You were wearing those ridiculous shoes. You remember them, don’t you?” Something in his gaze and the way he moved closer made her throat constrict.
“Uh, yes. Of course.”
“What did you call those shoes again?” He took another step. The heat of his body closed around her. The scents of detergent and perspiration and anger assaulted her nose.
She pulled out of his reach and said, “Heels?”
They were eye to eye now. Sparring for answers neither of them was willing to provide. The words hardly mattered.
Maguire shook his head. “No. Something else. Sounded Italian.”
Slowly, carefully, steadily, he kept coming. A hunter closing in on his prey. He breached her personal space, hovering over her. The toes of his boots pressed against her ballet flats. Her eyes were even with his thick chest. If she ran, he’d know. Guilt always ran.
She held her ground. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Contact Mari at firstname.lastname@example.org
Visit my website at www.marimanning.com
Follow me @mari_manning on Twitter
#RomanticIdea from Mari Manning:
I had my first #romanticidea when I was four, and it’s still a good one. I was lying in bed on a hot afternoon pretending to nap. A summer shower pattered softly against the roof. I heard children’s voice and tip-toed to the window so my mother wouldn’t hear my footsteps. Dressed in swimsuits and boots, the neighbor kids were running in the rain, screaming like wild things and jumping through puddles. I’d have given anything to be with them.
So … here’s my romantic idea. When a gentle summer shower drifts over your neighborhood, you and your loved one(s) must put on your swimsuits and rain boots and be wild things. If you are too dignified for this, dig out an umbrella big enough for two and go for a romantic walk in the rain with your honey.
Should your summer shower be accompanied by lightning, turn off the lights, turn on Billie Holiday and daydream about the rain scene in The Notebook.