Showing posts with label Fire and Silk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fire and Silk. Show all posts

Sunday, 21 April 2013

Meet Erin O'Quinn


Up Close and Personal: 
Erin O’Quinn

My pen name is Erin O’Quinn. I have been contracted by Amber Quill Press for several months, and when my latest novel Heart to Hart debuts May 26, I will have written eleven historical novels (four of them as YA fantasies under my real name).
So I thought it was time to introduce you a little more “up close and personal” to Erin.
I was born and raised in Nevada, in the high desert. My father, a self-sustaining miner, actually supported my mom and us three girls through his one-man mining ventures. Until I was forced to go to school fifty miles away, we lived on the side of a mountain in a wooden cabin with no electricity or running water. Those were the days! My wild upbringing at the treeline of a high peak shaped me in ways I am still discovering. (I found out, in writing Fire & Silk, that my roots hid a wellspring of emotions and images, more than enough to fill a novel.)
After high school, I attended the University of Southern California on a scholarship, earning a BA in English and then an MA degree Comparative Literature. Such a culture shock—from a town of less than five thousand to a city complex of over seven million!
After college, I pursued the “academic” life for awhile, becoming a college teacher, then a marketing/promotion manager for a large newspaper. But for some reason, I began to shun the ivory tower kind of life. I became a car salesperson, then a pallet-hauler for a big-box store garden center. I found myself more comfortable on the back docks talking to truck drivers than in the classroom talking to students.
One day three years ago, my husband brought an iMac into the house. I sat down at the keyboard, and my whole life changed. I began to write—first with Bil under our real names, and then under a pen name.
I actually have three different “personas.” One part of me writes young adult historical fantasy with my husband. One part turns out steamy M/F historical novels, set in the time of St. Patrick in fifth-century Ireland. The third persona tosses out the “F” and concentrates on male pairs of characters, both historical and contemporary.
I chose the very Irish name to reflect my deep interest in the history, language, mythology and culture of Ireland. For my series of Ireland romances, I was so taken by the subject that I actually studied Irish Gaelic to get a feel for the cadence and lilt of the spoken language. So when readers close one of those books, they’re able to say everything from “I love you” to “kiss my bum”  in Gaelic.
The subject matter was compelling enough to me that I started a blog, called “The Gaelic Spirit,” which is dedicated to a wide-ranging spectrum of subjects. Here is an example of my archive:
Did the Irish Invent the Kilt?
Who is Danny Boy?
St. Patrick and the Tradition of Cursing
Who Were the Picts? And What About Those Tattoos?
Celtic  Cowboys: Riding the Range in Ancient Ireland
Siren Bookstrand published two MM historicals, a series called “The Iron Warrior,” which are also set in St. Patrick’s Ireland of ca. 432 AD. And now I have written a new historical novel about two gay men. But the difference between it and the others is pretty stark.
Heart to Hart takes place in a fantasy Ireland city in 1923. Its two main characters are a horny, roustabout Irishman named Michael McCree and an almost surly, fastidious man named Simon Hart.
Michael’s interest in Simon is instant and continuous. He vows to bed him, become his roomer, and worm his way into becoming his business partner too. But Simon, whose former partner in his private investigation  business has been murdered, is in no mood to put up with Michael’s shenanigans.
If you can’t tell by the description, this book is a comedy, a romance, and a mystery too. The setting is the cusp of the steampunk era when steam and gaslight were  giving way to electricity and motorcars.
But true to my nature, both men have a not-funny side, a part of their past they are not talking about. The more serious threads ravel out every so often, and the reader gets a glimpse of real people under the silly escapades.
Because this is an “excerpts” blog, I’ll reprint a very small part of the upcoming novel.
Michael was awakened by an insistent rapping on the outside apartment door. Knowing it could not be Simon, he almost bellowed, “Go away!”
“Mr. McCree. ‘Tis Mrs. Gallagher. The landlady. Ye must open, or I come in.”
“Then ye wish to gaze on a naked man? For shame, missus.” He grinned at the open bedroom door, deliberately left ajar by Simon Hart. He had slept in his baggy trousers, and now he slid out of bed, reluctant to wake fully.
He padded barefoot through the Victorian sitting room and opened the door with a suddenness that clearly startled the prim elderly woman standing on the threshold. “Here ye see me, lovely lass. Now what can ye need wi’me?”
The woman’s sallow cheeks suffused with color, and her pale green eyes suddenly became trapped by fluttering lashes. Michael’s grin widened, and so did the door.
“Ye wish to enter me private rooms. Will the neighbors not talk?”
I’d like to leave you with my sig line. From this, you’ll be able to find everything about my Erin O’Quinn writing life—from my blogs to my books to my FB Erotica group, dedicated to the more intellectual (rather than promotional) side of the writerly life.
Thanks for letting me bend your ear, um, steal your eyes for a while. See you next time!

~Erin O’Quinn

Erin’s Blogs:  Gaelic Spirit  The Man in Romance 
Erin’s Historical Romances: SirenBookstrand
Erin’s Contemporary MM Romances: 

Wednesday, 15 August 2012

Two people crash and clash, desire and despise...when his fire meets her silk.  
Fire & Silk is the story of a gruff, red-headed bachelor named Flann, son of an Irish king, and a fiery Iberian virgin named Mariana.
In this excerpt, Flann commits an act that will bind him to a naive yet headstrong woman, as she seeks his protective cover during a furious rainstorm.


The slight shift in wind told Flann that the rain would begin in a matter of minutes. He eyed the corner of the tarred cloth as he continued to play his bone whistle—more to confound and anger the woman than to extend the improvised melody. When he felt the first fine spray of rain on his face, he seized the corner of waterproof cloth nearest him and, in one sweeping motion, wrapped it around himself. Then he lay waiting for the real rain to fall.
He saw by the dancing fingers of fire that the woman was defenseless against the cold night—not a shawl, not a cloak or brat or any kind of wrap that might have kept her warm or dry. And yet she merely stepped closer to the fire, as though defying the heavens. Except for her last commanding words, she had apparently decided to stand there, soaked to the very bone, even after the rain had drowned his fire, cursing him and his peasant attitude.
Good! Tá go maith. Let her feel the cold arms of night and the loveless kiss of an autumn thunderstorm. He wrapped the cover tighter and pulled it over his head just as the rain began in earnest. From under the cloth, he clearly heard her anguished cry. “Oh, help me! ¡Ayúdame! Do something!”
Flann felt himself grinning in spite of his resolve to ignore her. He lifted the cloth and opened it wide like an eagle’s wing, inviting her inside. 
The woman, to her credit, did not hesitate coyly, drawing back from touching the body of a stranger. She dived for him and the protective covering, and as soon as he felt her all along the length of his body, he closed the cloth around both of them, one wing-like arm drawing her against him. They lay there cocooned while he breathed evenly and she gasped in a kind of throaty cough. Shush, shush, he crooned to her in his mind, and after a while her spasms of cold ceased and she was silent.
They were lying face-to-face, close as lovers. In the darkness, he could not see her face, but he felt her uneven breath on his cheeks and mouth. And then, unbidden, his body betrayed the fact that he had not been near a woman in several months.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, and in spite of the tightness of the cloth around them, she tried to turn away from his adamantine groin.
Deeply amused, Flann spoke for the first time. “Volo vobis vesperum, O great lady. As ye can see, there is scant room to roll about like a cork in a barrel. Lie still.”
“You…you are a cad and a scoundrel! Touch me not!”
Flann lapsed again into silence, still grinning, his urgent groin pressing into her silken dress—not by design but by necessity of their unusual encounter. Completely encased by the tarred cloth, he could feel the insistent rain pummeling them, almost laughing at them, daring them to change position. And so, he merely lay stretched out, one arm around her shoulders, enjoying this last night under the vast sky of his beloved Éire.
They lay immobile for half an hour, by his reckoning. He could feel that her shivering had ceased completely, and he knew that the warmth of his body was saving her from an agony of wet and cold. Her breath on his face was regular and easy, as though she had fallen asleep. And so, he shifted slightly, trying to ease the pressure on his groin by moving away from her.
Nolo tangere!” she hissed. Touch me not!
“Ye be a scourge and a nag and not in the least desirable to me. Do ye understand? Do ye know nothing of the ways of a man?”
“I know enough,” she whispered defiantly. “I know I would rather die than be ravished by a—a low criminal.”
“Ye’ll deem yourself fortunate to be touched by any man at all, your highness. For while your body is not repugnant, your attitude is. I have a mind to let ye loose to the wind and the rain. Believe me, I would sleep more soundly by meself.”
She began to struggle under the cover, and Flann held her even closer, suddenly reluctant to let her go. 


What really happened under the cover that night? The answer to that question tells the story of Fire & Silk.

Publisher: SirenBookStrand
Genre: Historical Romance
Heat rating: “Steamy”

Erin O’Quinn has also published a historical romance trilogy, The Dawn of Ireland, and an erotic M/M historical titled Warrior, Ride Hard. Please see the signature line below.

OQ Erin O’Quinn’s Gaelic blog:   http://bit.ly/Jgz6tU
Erin O’Quinn’s Manlove blog:  http://romancemanlove.wordpress.com/
Storm Maker:  http://amzn.to/O218y7
The Wakening Fire : http://amzn.to/N1Gc6C
Captive Heart:  http://amzn.to/Qm8b1X
Fire & Silk:  http://amzn.to/P6jZtn
Warrior, Ride Hard:  http://www.bookstrand.com/warrior-ride-hard