So excited to have Liliana Hart on my blog today! Not only is she a best selling author, she is family!
Without Further Ado........
Tell
us a little about yourself.
I’m a bestselling author of romantic mystery
and erotic suspense (with a little comedy thrown in), and I have an odd fear of
someday being squished by the cogs of a giant clock. I have no idea why. I
think I’ve seen The Great Mouse Detective too many times. I also deplore
cauliflower and yogurt, and I love Milk Duds, reading, and Chicos. I know…I’m
very eclectic. It adds to the mystery of the author persona.
Did
you always want to be an author?
No. When I was eight I wanted to be an
elevator repairman because my mom told me they had a specialized skill set and
made lots of money. I didn’t want to be a writer until around the age of
sixteen. It was then I decided the coveralls of an elevator repairman weren’t
sexy enough and that writers were probably very glamorous, riding around in
limos and eating fancy desserts.
What
is your favorite part of being a writer/author?
That’s easy! The best part about being an
author is that I get to hang out in my pajamas all day. I mean, yeah, sometimes
when I’m on deadline, I might end up wearing them for two
or three days, but after the first twenty-four hours you hardly notice the
smell.
*LOL*
Tell
us a little about your book.
My latest release is CADE: A MacKenzie
Novel, and it’s a continuation of my MacKenzie series. Though this book is
technically the start of a new series, so it stands alone. It’s erotic suspense
a la Maya Banks or Lora Leigh. The hero is a super sexy former DEA agent who
watched his lover executed by a cartel he’d been working undercover for. The
heroine is a stubborn Texas girl with lots of sass, and she’s in no mood to put
up with the surly neighbor who just moved in. The chemistry between the two is
explosive from the first moment they meet.
The two of them really are delicious!
Rate
your story in terms steaminess?
If I had to rate the steaminess on a scale
of 1 to 10, I’d give it a 12.5.
When
did you start writing and when did you finish your first book?
I started my first book my freshman year of
college, but I didn’t buckle down and actually finish a book until seven years
ago. I was working full time and had two small children, and I just sat down
and decided that I was finally going to do it. I’ve never looked back, and now
I can’t imagine not writing.
Where
do you get your inspiration?
(Insert evil laugh here) No one’s lives are
safe. I get my inspiration and ideas from everywhere. I’m a consummate
eavesdropper, though I just tell myself that I’m a really good listener. I also
read news headlines and tabloids because I’ll get a lot of ideas from there
too. There’s a story in almost every situation.
I'm beginning to see that *grin*.
Do
you plot and outline or do you just write? Plotter or Pantser?
Ummm…Don’t tell my editor. Even mentioning
the word plot sends me into
convulsions. I’m a pantser from beginning to end. I don’t like to know what’s
happening to my characters until close to the end. If it keeps me surprised,
then I like to think it keeps my readers surprised.
Do
you have another book in the works?
Yes! Always. Book 2 of my Addison Holmes
Mystery Series, WHISKEY SOUR, comes out in mid-June. Addison, of course, gets
into a whole mess of trouble with her latest case, and she also has a new man
trying to muddy up her relationship with Nick. She’s in quite a pickle.
Sounds fun!
What
advice would you give new authors?
What have you learned about the business?
I’d say to never give up. This is a hard
business. I mean, freaking hard. It
takes thick skin, determination and a good attitude. I’ve gotten hundreds, hundreds, of rejections over the past
seven years, but I keep writing. A good story will always win. Keep working on
your craft, and always try to make each book better than the last. My biggest
fear now is that I’ll disappoint my readers somehow, so I just try to let the
characters and story take over.
Boxers
or Briefs?
Is it okay if I pick boxer-briefs?
Absolutely, *grin*, you would be surprised how many say commando!
Pizza
or hamburger?
I’ll pick a cheeseburger. But mostly I like
steak. Can I add that to your choices? I know. I’m being difficult. My husband
tells me this a lot.
Steak is awesome! Being difficult is what makes life so much FUN!
Beer,
Wine, or mixed drink?
Mixed drink, please. And are you going to
send it to me via FedEx? I could use one about now. My drink of choice is Long
Island Tea, but I’ll take a mojito in a pinch.
I really think FedEx would frown on a liquid delivery...I'll have to think about logistics on that one.
(Character
Questions) CADE: A MacKenzie Novel
What
were your first impressions of each other?
Cade:
I’m not sure I’m allowed to say. This seems like a nice
blog. Let’s just say that Bayleigh grew on me. Once she stopped throwing things
at me and I finally kissed her to shut her up, things went pretty smoothly
between us.
Bayleigh:
I try not to think about the first time we met. Cade didn’t exactly make a good
impression, though it was generous of him to make enough noise to wake the dead
without his shirt on. He is pretty to look at. I remember thinking at the time
that I be with him forever if he’d just keep his mouth shut.
What’s
your favorite characteristic of each other?
Cade:
I love that Bayleigh has absolutely no idea how
beautiful she is, inside or out. She’s the best person I know, and she makes me
a better man.
Bayleigh:
I love that there’s a sense of loyalty and honor built deep inside Cade. Not
everyone has the ability to have both of those qualities. He’s such a good man,
even though he does sometimes forget and leave the toilet seat up.
What
are your plans for the near future?
Cade:
Last time I checked the wedding was still on. At least I
hope it is. I did invest in a new tux. Beuller?
Bayleigh:
The wedding is still on, hot stuff. But I still think we
should have eloped. My brothers are driving me crazy.
Cade:
I’m game if you are. Just make sure you don’t mention it to my mother. I’d hate
to make you a widow so soon after our marriage.
Bayleigh:
Sigh…
I guess it’s you, me, the church, and two hundred of our closest friends and
family on Saturday then. Try not to be late.
It was so much fun, Liliana! I love your characters! I'm so glad you took the time for me and my readers today. Everybody, be sure to leave your email to enter the drawing for a paperback copy of CADE!
Keep reading at the bottom. Liliana brought the Prologue and Chapter 1 of CADE for you guys to enjoy today!
Where to find you
Cade MacKenzie is prepared to give his life to
destroy the cartel that killed his lover, but the only way to draw them out is
to present them with the perfect bait.
Bayleigh Scott has no idea who her new neighbor
is, only that her body is drawn to him in ways she can’t explain, and the
danger that surrounds him isn’t the deterrent she knows it should be.
More than fireworks explode between Cade and Bayleigh
when she discovers the real reason he relentlessly pursued her, but by then it’s
too late, because she’s already been drawn into a deadly game of desire,
deception and revenge.
Prologue
Miami, Two Years
Ago
Cade
MacKenzie knew fear.
It
pressed against his chest and squeezed at his heart every time his lover
screamed in pain. She stared at him out of wild eyes that had melted like dark
chocolate when she’d climaxed in his arms only a few hours before. She’d been
soft and pliant against him, his name a chant on her lips, as he buried himself
inside her.
But
now those eyes were full of terror, the bruise on the side of her face already
discolored and her lips swollen and bleeding where Miguel del Fuego had taken
his fist to her—a man who never showed remorse or guilt over terrorizing women
or children. Carmen had been caught giving the location for del Fuego’s next drug
shipment to the DEA, and there were no second chances with the cartel leader.
Not even for his own daughter.
Cade
and Carmen had been dragged from bed in the middle of the night, both of them
naked, the evidence of their passion still evident on their damp skin. They’d
been blindfolded and beaten, and Cade knew without a shadow of a doubt that it
was no one’s fault but his own. He’d been so wrapped up in the woman, so
desperate to be inside her, that he hadn’t swept his room for bugs. He hadn’t
found one in over two years. Miguel had begun to trust him, to groom him to
take over the cartel. But Cade had let his guard down and taken that trust for
granted, and now they would both pay the price.
Cade
knew the warehouse they’d been taken to well—the large wooden crates stacked
against the walls, the oil-stained concrete, the black panel vans parked in the
center of the space. He’d spent the afternoon there himself, making sure
everything was in place for the shipment of Miguel’s new date rape drug to come
into the US from Colombia. Its street name was Rabbit, and it was particularly dangerous because it could be
administered through the skin. One touch of the powder against a hand or the
back of the neck, and the person it had been given to wouldn’t care where, who
or how many they were fucking. Man or woman. Even as their minds screamed no,
their bodies would betray them and beg yes. If it was injected into the
bloodstream, there was no chance for survival.
There
had been too many deaths over the last several years because of the drug, and
Cade had been selected to infiltrate del Fuego’s cartel and take them down once
and for all.
The
warehouse was bugged and his team was aware of the shipment coming in. It would
be unloaded at the docks and brought to the warehouse for safekeeping until it
could be distributed to del Fuego’s suppliers. But the shipment wasn’t supposed
to happen for another four hours, and Cade knew there was a chance he and
Carmen could be shit out of luck as far as having anyone in place for a rescue.
Cade’s
own wounds were severe and made it difficult to stay conscious. The gunshot
wound to his shoulder bled freely—too freely—and he had at least three cracked
ribs. But with every blow he received, he kept his eyes steady on Carmen’s,
hoping his courage would be her strength. He was proud of her. She didn’t beg
for mercy as she was beaten. She stared at her father with all the hatred and
loathing she’d always felt for him. She’d spent twenty-two years being his
prisoner, and she’d known it was only a matter of time before she became his
guinea pig for the drug he was so proud of.
When
Cade had gone undercover in del Fuego’s cartel three years before, he’d had
every intention of seducing Carmen into giving him the information the DEA
needed to shut down the cartel. He’d had no problems lying to her, or spinning
a future together he had no plans of delivering. But Carmen had surprised him.
Her sweet, shy smiles, and her need for love had broken through every plan he’d
made. The last thing he’d expected was to fall in love with her.
“I’m
disappointed in you, Carmen,” Miguel said, caressing the side of her swollen
face with his pistol. “You’ve been telling my secrets to this gringo. To the American authorities.
Your loyalty should always be to your family. SÃ?”
Cade
jerked against his captor’s arms as Miguel struck Carmen again, and he fought
to stay conscious as fingers dug into the wound at his shoulder.
“Stop
it, Papá,” Carmen cried, crawling
toward Cade. “They’re hurting him. Please don’t hurt him.”
“Would
you have me spare this man, Carmen? A man I trusted? One I hoped would take
over my business and give me strong grandchildren so I could see my legacy
continue?”
“Yes.
Please, Papa,” she begged.
“Would
you die for him, Carmen?”
“No!”
Cade shouted. “This is between you and me, Miguel. Carmen’s loyalties are
divided. Let her go.”
Cade
fought again to break free of the hold they had on him, knowing what was
coming, desperate to stop it. Two men weren’t enough to hold him down, and two
more came from somewhere, getting in punches to his cracked ribs to slow him
down. He strained against their hold, sweat and blood running into his eyes,
but he couldn’t get to her.
“Answer
me, Carmen. Is this traitor’s life worth your own? Do you love him that much?”
“Yes,”
she whimpered, her hand reaching out to Cade as she crawled closer, her arm
wrapped around her middle.
God, where was his team?
They should know something was wrong. Know he needed them. Cade used the last
of his strength to work his arm free and hold his hand out to Carmen, praying
for a miracle. He needed to touch her, to hold her. She placed her smaller hand
in his, her slim fingers bloody and broken, and Cade looked up at Miguel, ready
to do whatever it took to save her. To bargain his soul if the monster in front
of him would take it.
But
when he met Miguel’s eyes, they were mocking and full of hatred. A hatred that
had no possibility of being extinguished.
“Ah,
young love,” Miguel said, his smile becoming crueler. “This is on your head, Cade
MacKenzie.”
Cade
threw his body toward Carmen, but he was too late. The shot from Miguel’s gun
echoed in his ears along with his screams, and Carmen’s hand went limp in his,
her blood splattered across his face and chest. Blood he knew he’d never be
clean of.
Chaos reigned around them as the
warehouse went black and the shouts of soldiers and agents swarming through the
building started to penetrate the haze of shock and anger. He kept waiting for
Miguel to finish what he’d started and put a bullet through his brain, but it
never happened. Those that held him captive ran for cover, so only he and
Carmen lay in the middle of the warehouse floor, flashes of gunfire and smoke
building around them.
He
pulled himself closer to her body and gathered her in his arms, his mind numb
with grief, and he snarled as hands tried to jerk him away from what was his.
“Dammit,
Cade, look at me.”
The
voice in his ear was familiar, and he didn’t fight as night vision goggles were
placed over his eyes. His brother, Declan, came into focus.
“I
can’t—,” he tried to say, holding Carmen closer.
“We’ll
get her out, Cade. We’ll do right by her,” Dec said, taking her from his arms
into his own. “But we need to get you out right now. The del Fuego cartel will
be gunning for you.”
Cade
nodded and let his brother lead him out of hell, but he heard the voice that
called to him over the chaos.
“You’ll
never be safe, Cade MacKenzie,” Miguel screamed. “You’ll never know peace as
long as I’m still breathing. I’ll take everything and more that you’ve taken
from me.”
Cade
couldn’t imagine what more the man could hope to take from him. His future had
been the dead woman in his brother’s arms.
Chapter
One
Present Day
Neighbors
were a pain in the ass.
Especially
neighbors who made as much noise as possible at the crack of dawn. Did no one
have consideration for their fellow man anymore? She wasn’t asking for much,
dammit. Just a little common courtesy.
Bayleigh
Scott rolled toward her nightstand to look at the old fashioned alarm clock
with the giant hands and noticed it was just shy of 6am. She groaned and pulled
the pillow over her head, trying desperately to block out the grinding noise
from what sounded like a fleet of semis outside her window. She’d closed her
shop at ten the night before but hadn’t gotten home until after one because she’d
been doing inventory. Not even five full hours of sleep. And she had to be back
to open at ten since her assistant was out sick.
When
the pillow failed to have the effect she was looking for, she tossed it across
the room and felt the slow flush of anger work through her body.
“Who
the hell do these people think they are?” she muttered, throwing back the
covers and stomping to the bay window in her bedroom.
She
could only see the back deck of the house next door from her window, and she
scowled as she noted the ferns already hanging from baskets on the porch, the
dimmed sconces attached to the posts giving her a good view in the darkness.
“Making
yourself right at home, aren’t you?”
She
let the curtain drop and stomped through the house, tripping over the edge of
the rug and bumping her shin against the table she had at the end of the couch.
The coffeepot beckoned, so she punched the button to start her morning caffeine
as she made her way to the kitchen window. She had the perfect view of the
neighbor’s front yard.
Bayleigh
winced as the screech of the truck lift going up and down assaulted her ears.
It wasn’t like the noise would bother anyone else. Most of her neighbors turned
their hearing aids off after eight o’clock and didn’t turn them back on until
the sun rose. There was no way her new neighbors were another little retired
couple like everyone else on the street. They were probably party animals or
reprobates. Maybe both.
Powerful
lights were set up so they could unload the truck that was backed into the
driveway, but all she could see was the shadows of men as they unloaded the
furniture. They didn’t even need that stupid lift. They were just being lazy.
There was no reason for the truck to be on at all.
Muttered
curses propelled her out the front door before common sense could take hold.
She never did well on little sleep and no caffeine. It wasn’t her fault. She
liked to think of it as a medical condition. She’d just explain politely about
the noise, and surely they would take care of things from there. It was the
decent thing to do.
The
cool October air slapped against her skin, reminding her she was only wearing
the cotton boxers and tank top she’d slept in. Chills raced across her skin and
she tripped over the hose that ran across her sidewalk. She’d forgotten to roll
it back up after watering her flowerbeds the previous morning.
She
paused for a moment, wondering if she’d made a mistake when she felt three sets
of eyes look in her direction. The sudden stillness of the night was unnerving.
She couldn’t see the two men in the shadows clearly, but she got a heck of a
glimpse of the man standing closest to her. The Devil in disguise. The sudden
urge to cross herself had her squeezing her fingers into tight fists. She wasn’t
even Catholic for Pete’s sake.
His
scowl was black and menacing and he narrowed his eyes at her in warning,
automatically putting her back up. She wasn’t going to be intimidated by the
likes of him. At least not by much.
Bayleigh
straightened her shoulders and marched across the tiny patch of grass that
separated the two houses. She climbed into the cab of the big white truck, the
cracked seats scratchy against the backs of her legs, and turned off the
ignition before taking the key. She jumped out of the truck and watched warily
as the three men gathered close, their arms crossed over their bare chests and
various looks of surprise pasted on their faces. Maybe Satan was having a
convention, because surely all three of these men were fallen angels of the
worst kind, or hardened criminals at best.
They
were muscled and bare-chested, and their jeans hung low on narrowed hips. It
was obvious they were related, and her gaze passed over them all quickly. But
she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off the one in the center—the one who’d made
her lose her common sense with just one scowl. There was something in his eyes
that had her taking a step back before she remembered she was standing in the
middle of a safe neighborhood. She wouldn’t be intimidated on her own property.
She looked down and took a quick step back so she was actually on her own
property, and crossed her arms over her chest, daring him to say anything.
The
Devil’s dark hair was longer than she liked on a man, almost to his shoulders,
and his eyes were as black as coal. Probably because he’d been hauling it in
hell before he’d decided to move to Fort Worth, Texas. A short beard covered
his face and a wicked looking tattoo swirled over his shoulder and part of the
way down his arm. His chest was scarred, and she couldn’t even begin to imagine
what had happened to him to cause such marks. Her gaze lowered, following the
black smattering of hair that disappeared beneath his jeans, and all rational
thought left her head as she noticed the sizable bulge behind his zipper.
“You’ve
got some mighty friendly neighbors, Cade,” the man next to the Devil said, his
smirk evident in the slow drawl of his voice. “She can’t take her eyes off you.”
Bayleigh
felt heat flush her cheeks, and she brought her eyes back up to meet his. The
keys bit into the palms of her hand reminding her she had them, so she tossed
them to the walking hard-on a little harder than was probably necessary. He
snapped them out of the air and glared in her direction, and the urge to turn
tail and run was prevalent in her mind, but instead she turned around and
calmly and put one foot in front of the other.
“What
the hell do you think you’re doing?”
She
knew it was him that spoke without having to turn around. His voice slid across
her skin like rough velvet, and she shivered at the demand in it. Not that she
expected the Devil to be an easy man or be without a modicum of power, but she
liked to think she had enough self-control to ignore the dangerous seduction of
his voice and keep walking.
She
eyed the distance to her front door and looked back in his direction. He’d
taken a couple of steps forward, and there was no way to get away from him if
he came after her. He narrowed his eyes as if he could read her mind, and shook
his head slowly, warning her not to try it, so she swallowed her fear and
turned around to face him.
She was an idiot.
Running would have been the smart thing to do if the look on his face was
anything to go by. She could have made it. Maybe.
“Most
of us sleep here in the middle of the night,” she finally said with more
bravado than she felt. Never let them see you’re afraid. Her father had
repeated the mantra constantly during her childhood. “I figured since it was
your first day in the neighborhood, you might want to start out on the right
foot.”
“You
thought wrong,” he said. “And this is far from the middle of the night. The sun’s
already coming up. Maybe you’re just lazy.”
Bayleigh’s
eyes narrowed at the insult. She’d never been accused of being lazy a day in
her life. But while her father’s advice rattled around in her brain, something
her mother always told her came to mind, just as it had every time she’d moved
from school to school and had to deal with the inevitable “new kid” bullying.
Kill them with kindness.
So
she smiled as sweetly as possible and said the only thing she could think of to
strike terror into his heart.
“You
know, there are a lot of elderly people that live on this street.”
“So?”
he growled. “And then there’s you. Let me guess. You’re single?”
“I’ve
been engaged,” she said, narrowing her eyes.
“I
can see that worked out well for you. I take it he couldn’t manage to bring
himself to the altar?”
“Something
like that,” she said softly, the old feelings of not quite being good enough
surfacing before she could tramp them back down.
“Look,
I’m sorry,” he said. “That was out of line. I promise I’ll leave everyone on
the whole damned street alone if they’ll leave me alone.”
Bayleigh
felt the beginnings of a headache forming at the back of her skull. Between the
lack of sleep and the one-two punch her new neighbor had just delivered,
reminding her of her former fiancé and the myriad of inadequacies she hadn’t
realized she’d had until she’d met him, she decided she wasn’t in the mood to
be nice after all.
“Oh,
no. No need to apologize. If anything it’s my fault for getting in at one this
morning after working a fourteen hour day,” she said sarcastically. “It was
inconsiderate of me to expect you to move in after the sun came up. Tell you
what I’ll do to make it up to you.”
She
smiled—a smile that her brothers would recognize as trouble. Her new neighbor
must have recognized it too, because his eyes narrowed to black slits and the
muscles in his arms bulged as he crossed them in silent warning.
“You
don’t really mean that about having everyone leave you alone,” she said
sweetly. “You seem like such a friendly and outgoing guy. I’ll make sure to
mention how great you are to everyone over the next couple of days. Before you
know it, the whole street will be knocking on your door and introducing themselves.
It won’t be a month before you’re hosting the neighborhood barbecue. You’ll
also be picking up prescriptions, mowing lawns, and eating macaroni salad with
every meal so you won’t hurt their feelings.” She batted her eyelashes at him
as he seemed to pale before her eyes. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”
Laughter
followed her into the house and she slammed and locked the door behind her. She
knew it hadn’t been him laughing. Dollars to donuts a smile had never cracked
that face. The Devil didn’t smile. It would pay to remember that. And so what
if she’d been slightly attracted to him. Bad boys were supposed to be
attractive to the opposite sex. It was a hormonal rule. But then he’d had to go
and open his mouth.
Tears
threatened to fall as she recalled his words. He’d been exactly right. She’d
been engaged for over a year, and Paul hadn’t been able to go through with the
actual wedding. He’d liked her well enough as a friend, but she was too
outspoken for a corporate attorney’s wife. Her body was too curvy. Her language
not lady-like enough. And how could she expect Paul to spend his life with a
woman who didn’t respond to him in bed?
It’s
not that she couldn’t have orgasms. She had great orgasms with her vibrator. It
was just that sometimes it took her longer to get there than her lovers had
thought was reasonable. She’d just be warming up, and all of a sudden, they’d
twitch and groan and it would all be over. The last date she’d been on was
three years ago, and she hadn’t even bothered to move it into the physical
stage. The thought of disappointing anyone else had been more than enough to
keep her celibate.
Paul
had been a bastard. She knew that now.
But at the time he’d chipped away at her self-esteem until she’d barely
recognized the person she’d become. She barely ate, trying to slim down the
curves he found so distasteful. She barely spoke, knowing if she didn’t talk
then nothing would come out of her mouth that would embarrass Paul. And she
faked her orgasms just so he would think she was putting a little effort into
their lovemaking.
She
knew Paul had been a controlling prick by the time their wedding date had come
around, and she thanked God every day that he hadn’t shown up to the church
that day. He’d saved her a hell of a lot of grief in the long run, but he’d
damaged part of her, and she was still working like hell to get back to the
person she really was. To not let those old doubts sneak up on her.
Bayleigh
wiped away the tears that had managed to escape and padded back into the
bedroom. It didn’t matter what her new neighbor thought. No one had ever said
the Devil was nice.
Now
if she could avoid him for the rest of her life, he’d make the perfect
neighbor.
