Alternating Between Genres by Katy Regnery +Excerpt
Here are two things you should know about me before reading my books:
1. I have always loved the expression “the best of both worlds.” I love the idea of that you can enjoy the advantages of two vastly different things at the same time.
2. I am a highly seasonal person. I love all four seasons for their own beauty and reason, but my moods fluctuate with them.
Inside of me, as both a person and a writer, there is dark and light, desperation and joy, defeat and hope. There is a grown woman, happily married with two children and a beautiful home. She is secure and hopeful. She is me. There is also a clawing human id who will never be satisfied, whose mind wanders to dark and frightening places, who battles anxiety and has trouble staying still. She is me, too. I live in this dichotomy, and therefore I write it.
In the world of Blueberry Lane, which I inhabit from April until November, the families are wildly rich and their problems are completely manageable. The stories take me two to six weeks to write, mostly take place in the summer and early-fall and always have a happy ending. They’re sweet and steamy, and a little predictable, maybe, but damn it, they feel good. For me, as a writer, I love writing these books as my beloved Connecticut segues from winter to spring, from spring into summer. I feel the buoyancy of leaving winter behind. There is a lightness of the earth as the heavy snow melts away, and a lightness in my heart as I write the stories of another rich, beautiful Blueberry Lane family. These are my sunny-day offerings for your beach day reading.
In contrast, my ~a modern fairytale~ world, which I inhabit from December until March, is a much quieter, darker place. Imagine the starkness of dark brown trees on a landscape of all white. Icy frost glimmering in the sunshine. Delicate icicles that are as sharp as daggers. The uncertainty of the weather. Danger on the roads. The winter is perilous and dark, cold and unforgiving. And during those frigid New England months, twisted fairytales rise up from within me, demanding to be told. The characters in my fairytales are catastrophically damaged. Their struggles are real and profoundly painful, their heartbreak is palatable, their inner demons are loud and their desperation is clutching. I reach inside, into the deepest places of my heart, and find the human pain there, the empathy, the fury and the surrender…and I write. These are my stormy-day offerings for your ugly cry reading.
Light and dark.
Desperation and joy.
Defeat and hope.
These are my best of both worlds.
Christopher Winslow, the youngest of the four Winslow brothers, was born with a silver spoon in his privileged mouth, which has made it difficult for him to establish his credibility in the fast-approaching congressional race. Working against the clock to assure Pennsylvania voters that he is forthright, trustworthy and able has been an exhausting challenge, but Christopher's chances at beating the incumbant look good.
Julianne Crow, a plus-size model struggling to make ends meet, jumps at the chance to make a little extra cash on the side. What does she have to do? Slip something into Christopher Winslow's drink and take some very naughty pictures with him.
But Christopher is nothing like Julianne expected, and when her actions sabotage his hard-earned campaign only a month before the election, her guilt is overwhelming. She offers Christopher her help in an effort to repair the damage she's caused, but can anything change the fact that he sees her as an opportunist and a mercenary? When she starts campaigning for Christopher, he may find out there's more to her than meets the eye.
Return to the world created in the English Brothers books with this fresh foursome of scorching hot Winslow Brothers!
He had no right.
He had no business.
But it didn't matter, because he couldn't help himself. He leaned forward and claimed her mouth hungrily with his.
Her lips moved beneath his immediately, her hands flattening on his chest as he reached around her waist and pulled her up against his body. Her lips tasted like coffee with a hint of sweetness, and he wanted more—more of her, more of the sweetness. Sweeping his tongue over her lips, she opened for him, and he tilted his head, slanting his lips to cover hers more perfectly. Their tongues tangled—velvet heat, timid at first and then more sure, her teeth razing his flesh as he plunged hungrily into her mouth, swallowing her whimper and adjusting her against his body so that his hardness lined up with the valley of her sex. He groaned as she nipped his bottom lip, leaning her head to the side as he slipped his tongue back into her mouth. Moaning softly, she arched into him, and he slid his hands up her back, bracketing the sides of her breasts through the flimsy material of her blouse and feeling the frantic, ragged pull of her breath beneath his fingers as he kissed her.
And kissed her.
And kissed her.
Another whimper sounded from the back of her throat, and suddenly he realized that the hands she'd flattened against his chest were pushing him away. With a grunt of frustration, he released her, stepping back. Reaching up, he touched his lips with the back of his hand, panting as his knuckles dragged over the sensitized skin. He scraped in a shaky breath, staring at her, forcing himself not to lunge for her and draw her back into his arms.
Her chest heaved up and down from the force of her breathing, her blouse was disheveled, and the skin around her lips looked pink, though her lipstick was still perfectly in place. Her eyes were wide. And angry.
"You can't do that!" she said in a breathless whisper. "You can't just—"
"I know," he mumbled, dropping his hand from his lips and raking it through his hair. What the hell had he just done? What was he thinking?
"You can't accuse me of . . . of falling for you two days ago and then . . . then k-kiss me in p-private like . . . like the world is ending today. It's not . . . it's not fair, Chris."
"I'm sorry. I just . . ."
He turned his back to her, confusion making him wince. He didn't trust her. He didn't want anything to do with her. Why couldn't he help himself around her?
She raised her voice, speaking angrily to his back. "You said this was a job. An . . . an act. That didn't feel like an act."
"You're confusing me. You don't want me, then you—"
He palmed the back of his neck and turned to face her, his own voice low and lethal in his ears. "I don't want you?"
"Are you insane?" he barked.
"Jules," he gasped, staring at her in disbelief because how could she not know this? Despite what he'd said on Monday, didn't she know? Couldn't she see? And then suddenly he was speaking, his words coming out in a rush, a relief, a completely inappropriate stream of consciousness that he'd never, ever meant to share with her. "I can't think about anything but you. I dream about you. I have imaginary conversations with you. I go to YouTube and replay that press conference kiss over and over again to torture myself because I can't get enough of seeing you in my arms, melting into me. I don't want you?" He took a step toward her, stalking her, taking her arm so she couldn't pull away from him, and leaning into her personal space until they were almost nose to nose. "I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you!"
*All books in The Blueberry Lane Series can be enjoyed as standalone novels.*
MORE IN THE SERIES
Katy Regnery, award-winning and Amazon bestselling author, started her writing career by enrolling in a short story class in January 2012. One year later, she signed her first contract for a winter romance entitled By Proxy. Now a hybrid author who publishes both independently and traditionally, Katy claims authorship of the six-book Heart of Montana series, the six-book English Brothers series, and a Kindle Worlds novella entitled “Four Weddings and a Fiasco: The Wedding Date,” in addition to the standalone novels, Playing for Love at Deep Haven and Amazon bestseller, The Vixen and the Vet. The Vixen and the Vet is included in the charity anthology Hometown Heroes: Hotter Ever After, and Katy’s novella “Frosted” will appear in the upcoming (Jan ’15) anthology, Snowy Days Steamy Nights. Additionally, Katy’s short story, “The Long Way Home” will appear in the first RWA anthology (Feb ’15), Premiere. Katy lives in the relative wilds of northern Fairfield County, Connecticut, where her writing room looks out at the woods, and her husband, two young children, and two dogs create just enough cheerful chaos to remind her that the very best love stories begin at home.