ONE ON ONE WITH BRENDA TETREAULT
Bachman: For those who may not know you, what’s something you can tell us?
Tetreault: ‘I work full time, am the mom of an amazing 18 year old son, and am the proud wife of a retired Air Force Tech Sergeant. And I hope that everyone who reads a book and enjoys it will remember to leave a review and let the author know.’
Bachman: It’s a common saying, ‘A writer should write what they know’. Do you agree?
Tetreault: ‘No. If you only write what you know, you will never grow as a writer. Challenge yourself to learn something new every time you write.’
Bachman: How has your life influenced your writing or style of writing?
Tetreault: ‘I have a pretty full life, between working full time and being a wife and mom, so my writing tends to be done during my spare time and as a result, my writing tends to have a simple eloquence to it. That is, I somehow manage to immerse you in the scene, with a minimum of words.
Bachman: What do you think is the most important part to remember about the writing process?
Tetreault: ‘That it’s a marathon, not a sprint. Your story takes as long as it takes to write and trying to push to have it finished faster is going to cause the story to suffer.’
Bachman: Some writers may say that they enjoy the writing over the marketing side, as a self-publishing author, what would you say is your favorite part?
Tetreault: ‘Getting to talk to fans! Seriously! I write to tell stories, and when I get a message or e-mail from a fan telling me how much they loved my story, well….there’s nothing better!’
Bachman: If you could co-write with any author in the world, past and present, who would it be and why?
Tetreault: ‘Oh crap…there are SO many I could choose from!!!! If we’re talking about Mainstream authors, it would either be Gena Show later or Lara Adrian because they are both amazing author of the paranormal and urban fantasy genres. Ones in the Indie side of the house, I would say Rissa Blakely or Michelle Rabe. I am privileged enough to call both these amazing women my friend, and I feel our writing styles, while different, would be a perfect complement to one another.
Bachman: You were busy in 2014 giving readers’ a lot, what can readers and fans expect from you in 2015?
Tetreault: ‘The new year is one full of lots of fun and surprises. At the moment, I’ve got at least one full novel and perhaps two short stories planned!
Bachman: What current projects do you have going? Any tidbits you can share to tease readers?
Tetreault: ‘Current project is Bonded (Nightshade #4). This is Gianna and Gideon’s story. We met them in Beloved (Nightshade #3), and from the get go, there’s obviously some kind of story between them. This is their story.
Here’s an excerpt:
““Come,” she told him, “It grows late, and you still have wounds to be tended to.”
Gideon turned into Gianna, his free arm wrapping around her waist. “I’m fine,” he told her, in all honesty, “There’s nothing wrong with me that some food, a hot shower, and rest won’t cure.” Then, before Gianna could protest, Gideon planted a kiss on her mouth.
It was supposed to be a swift kiss of thanks, perhaps even brotherly in intent, but the moment his lips met hers, the kiss took on a life of its own, and he realized in a flash that he’d wanted to do this from the moment he’d laid eyes on her this evening, had hoped for a replay of that all too brief kiss they’d shared in this very room just months ago. He hadn’t been able to enjoy their last kiss, and he made an effort to do so now. With single minded focus, Gideon kissed her, coaxing, seducing her into a kiss of wild abandon. It became a kiss of give and take, of exploration and discovery, of seduction and promise, and Gideon was pretty certain that if his eternal soul weren’t already damned, it would be after taking this small piece of Gianna’s innocence.
Except Gianna wasn’t the innocent Gideon gave her credit for; for that matter, with the sole exception of the very young, most Fey women were only perceived as virginal and pure. Gianna was just shy of two hundred and fifty years old, though thanks to her fey blood, she appeared to be only in her mid-twenties. And she was several decades removed from her virgin years, thank you very much. There had been a brief, awkward affair, more than a century ago, but since that time there hadn’t been a male, Fey or otherwise, who had made her blood burn hot enough to desire him. Until this very moment, until this man kissed her, Gianna had been happy remaining celibate. Now, with Gideon’s taste on her tongue and the feel of his warm strength under her hands, her only thought was to bed him, to glut her senses on him until they both collapsed from sheer, pleasured exhaustion. Her lips followed the cords of his neck to his jaw, and then to his ear where her teeth grazed the shell before she purred,
“My Offer still stands; allow me to satisfy your needs.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her body tight to his, her hips cradling the hard ridge of his cock. “Let me fulfill all of your needs tonight, Gideon.” Then she was kissing him again, her meaning and intentions crystal clear as her body slid and writhed enticingly against his.
Gideon groaned against her mouth, his hand thrusting deep into the heavy mass of her midnight curls in order to claim her mouth for an even deeper kiss. When he felt her fingers tangle into his hair and tighten almost painfully, he grunted in pleasure and approval; Gianna’s love making would be just wild enough to satisfy his cravings and needs, would be wicked enough to keep things imaginative and avoid the pitfall of routine. Gideon could imagine spending decades learning all of Gianna’s carnal secrets, could imagine making love to her in the middle of a field of wildflowers as the moon rose and bathed her beautiful body in pale light, could imagine drinking in her lilac scent and drowning in the nectar of her kiss…
Something small and warm pushed against the side of his face with unrelenting insistence, the pressure not letting up. He fought against that pressure until something minute and hard shoved up his left nostril and yanked several nose hairs out by the root. The pain rebounded off the inside of his skull and brought tears to his eyes. With a roar, Gideon stumbled back from Gianna, and he swore with blistering sulfur. When his vision cleared, Pipkin stood on the table helping Gianna straighten her blouse and smooth her hair.
“Someone is approaching, sire!”
“Shit,” Gideon cursed, grabbing his sword.
Gianna stopped him. “Sit back down and I’ll finish cleaning your wounds,” she told him, her breathing still ragged. “No one will question your being here so late if they think I’m rendering aid.” Gideon couldn’t find anything wrong with her reasoning, so moving swiftly, he took his seat again.
By the time Leopold, king of the Fey and Gianna’s father, entered the room, Gianna was busy scrubbing away at blood and filth in order to stitch a nasty cut on Gideon’s face and Pipkin was acting as her assistant while the other dozen or so Brownies hid, silent and alert, in the burlap sacks at Gideon’s feet.”