Author Spotlight's Lilith Duvalier

I want to welcome Lilith Duvalier to my blog today. She has a wonderful giveaway in store for you today. There will be a bit more on that in a while. Right now lets grab our coffees, settle into your comfy chair and chat with this Eclectic and talented Lady.

Do you do anything to get you into the zone to write?

      I work in my room, so I tidy it up, make my bed and sometimes light a couple of candles. There also has to be music. I go nuts in the quiet.

Which authors inspire your writing?

     It doesn’t come across at all in “The Promise of Silk”, but the authors that inspire me most are Terry Pratchett and Joss Whedon. I’m hoping to bring some of that style to the book I’m working on now, “All About The Dress”.

    

What is your favorite book, character and why?

     Lancelot DuLac from “The Once and Future King” because he’s the most perfectly        written imperfect character ever. TH White gives him this tragic self loathing as his motivation for trying to be the perfect knight and manages to write every single character, even someone as evil as Mordred, as a real human being with reasons to feel bad for them, even when they are doing evil.

Do you prefer to write erotic or sweet?

     I prefer to write erotic. Sex is a transformed force and I like exploring the way it changes characters and how they interact with each other.

Which famous person, living or dead, are you drawn to?

     I am so jealous of and impressed with Chris Colfer. He’s just ridiculously talented and incredible and, at three years younger than me, has accomplished everything I ever want to do in life, while still seeming to be pretty well put together.

Where do you see yourself in five years?

     In five years I would like to be a full time freelance writer, and maybe teaching some kind of community or adjunct class. Or I would like my part-time theater job to go full-time. Or I would like to be in grad school.

Finish this sentence: I know I’ve made it when –

     people leave me reviews like “this isn’t my thing, but I liked it anyway.

What advice would you give aspiring writers?

     Read. Write. Read some more. Write some more. Write for fun, write for practice just keep writing. I also found this nano exercise that I love where you write a list of things that you love in books, and a list of things that you hate in books, which is a nice way to get a grip on what you want to write about.

What do you see yourself writing in the future?

     I have an m/m historical western nearly done and the project I have lined up  after that I’m calling a “gender-queer” romance, and it’s about a few heterosexual people who find themselves in situations where gender and sexuality get a little fluid. The alpha male character has a secret and the another character finds himself embarking on a somewhat unconventional relationship. It’s a contemporary and a little bit of a comedy.

If you could have one superpower what would it be and why?

     I want to be able to teleport. Commuting is the worst thing in the entire world.             Also, then I could sell my car and not have to take the bus.

What time of the day are you at your best to write?

     From 11-2 at night. I can double a whole days worth of writing in those three hours.  I am constantly exhausted.        

                                          And now for something completely different…

What do you look at first with an attractive man or woman, face, body or smile?

     The thing that makes me go – oh wow- when I guy walks into a room is definitely his eye brows and cheek bones, preferably with black hair, but the thing that makes a guy continue to seem attractive is his smile and his laugh.

Explain your perfect day.

     A snow day, preferably with at least one friend snowed in at my place. Then a whole day of Buffy and cookies and wine. Possibly a nap and some writing.

What is the most decadent desert you can’t say no to?

     I had a friend at one point who would randomly show up at my apartment with             pans and ingredients and make things, like some sort of pasta and booze elf. He once showed up at midnight with a blender one time and made us these amazing chocolate, rum, khalua shakes that we have never been able to recreate.

Do you have a favorite holiday what is it and what makes it special to you?

     Christmas. I like doing the family and food thing.

What key words describe you best?

     Daydreamy. Tired. Analytical.


Here is a small taste of her book The Promise of Silk

Blurb:

An airship pirate who ran away from his soul crushing London life, finds himself at an infamously decadent carnival out in the English countryside. A fellow pirate does his best to convince him to go and sample the lovely women of The Row, but Buck isn’t sure he ever wants a woman again.
That is until a mysterious woman in a red dress and mask sits down across from him, entrancing him instantly. He follows her back to her red silk tent, where she puts him through his paces, whetting his appetite for more erotic delights. Each time he returns, she brings him further beyond his boundaries, while learning that he can help her break her bonds.

Excerpt:

A small white hand appeared to one side of the tent flap and pulled it aside. The masked woman stood, still and silent, with the red silk of the tent flap draped over her arm. She said nothing.

            She did look like a demon now, with deep shadows carved into the ruches of her dress by the far off carnival lights, her mask rising over her head like devil’s horns. Buck hesitated under her stony gaze, and then, with a gulp, he stepped out of the light and into the black interior of the tent.

            A spicy, sweet smell filled his lungs the instant he stepped inside. He wondered why he hadn’t been able to smell it from the outside but continued in, shuffling carefully in the darkness. The woman walked behind him, the fabric of her dress making a soft sound as it moved over the ground.

            “Who are you?” he asked. She didn’t answer. There was a light scraping noise and a match flared in the darkness, illuminating her face and throwing the edges of her mask into sharp relief. She lit a candle, shedding light on nothing more than a stretch of red silk and the corner of a table, then stepped forward and lit another candle, bringing a muddled shape of something standing on the table into view. She walked farther into the room, lighting another candle every few steps. Buck stood by the tent opening, heart throbbing as though he were still running. Bit by bit, the room came into view.

            A rug was spread out over most of the bare ground, grass peeking around the edges of it. A large wooden box sat on top of it, occupying the entire middle of the tent. A small wooden vanity, with a large round mirror attached, stood against the back wall, directly across from the box. A few trunks were neatly arranged in a corner. The table with the statue of the woman on it, incense burning in front of it like it was an Eastern idol, was near the tent entrance. 

            The Red Lady stood across from Buck, eyes drilling into him just as they had at the pub.

            “Tell me your name.” Her voice was soft, deep, and steady.  It was like a river speaking.

            “Buck.”

            She tilted her head, the corners of her mouth tipping upward in contrast to the dripping points of her mask. “Tell me your real name.”

            “Alaric,” Buck admitted. He hadn’t used it since that last day at the factory. Alaric was a clerk and a doormat. Buck had some status, even if it was only among criminals. He had gone out of his way to make sure none of his fellow pirates ever found out he wasn’t called Buck. Not that pirates bothered about a man’s real name. 

            The Red Lady’s expression returned to blank beneath the mask.     

            “What’s your name?” Alaric asked.

            “I haven’t decided what you’ll call me yet.”

            His heart beat picked up again, and a tremor started in his legs.

            “Why did you follow me here, Alaric?”

            He shrugged, not sure of the answer. “Well…this is The Row isn’t it?”

            “It is.”

            “And you’re a woman on the Row right?”

            She didn’t reply. Alaric felt his face heating, a faint prickle starting in his cock despite it.  This was worse than in China, when that beautiful girl pretended to react to his clumsy fumbling and then tried not to laugh when he paid her for an hour and only lasted a handful of minutes.

            “Look, my ship’s just back from a long tour. I can pay you.”

            “We’ll see,” the Lady said, a small smile quirking her lips up. “You’ve accompanied a prostitute before?”

            “Of course.” He pointed at himself with a touch of bravado. “Pirate.”

            The Red Lady let a silence land there, stretching out before him.

            “Just once.”

            “It didn’t go well.”

            Now she was reading his mind. He should go, simply turn around, leave, and never see a prostitute again. Maybe she really was a demon. Maybe the mask was hiding the demon parts of her face. 

            His mind was trying to move his limbs, turn his feet, push him out the door, but his body was entranced. The tremor in his legs climbed up to his groin, making him very aware of the way the dim candle light moved across her rounded body.

            “No.”

            “Why didn’t it go well, Alaric?”

            His mouth was starting to go dry. His hands were beginning to shake.

            “She laughed at me,” he told her, dropping his eyes to the floor.

            “Why?”

            “Because I…I couldn’t, I didn’t…,” He stopped, gulped, wondered again what magic he had run across.

            “Look at me when you speak, Alaric.”

            He lifted his gaze up from the pattern of pomegranates running along the border of the red rug and met her shadowed eyes.

            “I couldn’t.... I barely got inside her before….”

            The Red Lady didn’t reply. Alaric suffered a terrible moment of fear she would throw him right back out of her tent and let him find a lower class prostitute who would welcome a quick trick like him between the carnival crowd.

            “Fortunately, that won’t be a problem here,” the Red Lady told him, a smile spreading over her red lips. “Undo your trousers, Alaric.”

Available through Evernight Publishing : The Promise of Silk

                                                        Now for the Giveaway! 

Lilith has graciously offered a copy of her new release The Promise of Silk

How do they enter to win?

Simply go to Lilith's blog Look on in Lust leave her a comment under her "enter to win" post. She will announce the winner on Friday 11/4/11.


Good Luck everyone and have a great day