Since this is one of my first blog posts with Fresh Fiction, I thought I’d tell
you a little about myself. Along with writing romance since forever, I wrote for
our local (small town) newspaper for about a year. I learned to cover the five
W’s so here they are on *me*:
Who
Dani Collins
Age: undisclosed
Hair: colored (blond streaks)
Wife of: one (also one of one wives)
Mother of: two (one of each)
Eyes: two (both laser-corrected and in need of glasses anyway)
What
I write Harlequin Presents, which is my dream. I wanted to write for them since
high school and now I do. I love, love, love writing for Presents. I also write
for Tule Publishing’s Montana Born imprint. I love them to the power of three as
well. I’ve also written (and published) a romantic comedy, a medieval fantasy
romance and a pair of erotic romances. I like to say I write anything, so long
as it’s romance.
Where
I write in my attic office at a computer desk while sitting on a ball. I put
coffee and food on the left and keep the right side littered with pens and
scraps of paper for notes (I’m right handed.) Despite being right-handed, I
mouse on the left. Our house is on a dead-end street in a very small cottage
town (pop. 1500 year round that swells to 5000 in the summer.) It’s about two
hours north of Spokane, Wash, just across the border into Canada.
When
I prefer to write first thing in the morning, still in my pjs. I drink a tea and
visit Facebook and read emails, then I make coffee, eat my breakfast, and get
serious. Lately my routine has been to aim for about two thousand words a day.
Once those are done, I can do other tasks like answer emails and write blog
posts. Sometimes, if the writing has gone slowly that day, I’m writing blog
posts at 8:02 in the evening. Today, for instance.
Why
Why romance? Anyone who reads romance knows the answer to that one. Because it’s
awesome! The world is a tough place. Lots of hurts happen in a million different
ways. We all need hope to get through our days and that’s what romance provides.
I *love*
reading and writing romance. I can’t imagine writing anything else. Also,
they’re sexy.
My latest book is a very sexy read entitled THE SHEIKH'S
SINFUL SEDUCTION. It’s part of Harlequin Presents Seven Sexy Sins
mini-series. I wrote Book Two, themed on the sin of *lust*. Here’s the blurb and
an excerpt. Enjoy!
About THE SHEIKH'S SINFUL SEDUCTION
Ruled by duty…
A king among men, Sheikh Zafir cannot allow emotion or feelings to color his
judgment. His carnal desires must be curbed for the sake of peace in his
kingdom. But his control is tested by the feisty Fern Davenport; Zafir must have
her.
Driven by desire…
Innocent Fern Davenport tries to resist the sheikh's skillful seduction—she
knows that he could never marry her. But under the blistering sun an incendiary
thirst awakes, and one incredible night results in a very lasting consequence.
Now this sheikh must claim his heir and his bride!
Excerpt
She usually walked away when feeling picked on, but despite the seventeen square
kilometers around her, she didn’t have anywhere to go. The only place she could
hide from Zafir was her own quarters, so she ducked into them. She bent under
the light weight of the silky red fabric to pick up the pole from the ground and
worked her way to the center, where a grommet awaited on the roof and the floor.
Of course it wasn’t as easy as it looked. She got the top one hooked in, but
even though the tent wasn’t heavy, the tension in the fabric was resistant to
her attempts to align the bottom of the pole into the floor.
“You spaced the pegs too far away,” she told him, hearing her mother’s voice and
cringing.
“I’ve pitched more tents than you have, Fern,” he drawled and she narrowed her
eyes at him even though they couldn’t see each other.
Another pole made a zipping noise as he slid it into the pocket that would form
one of the corners. “Let me finish this part then I’ll help you.”
Oh, great. I’ll just stand here looking stupid then.
The tent shifted on her hair, making it crackle with static. She debated
crawling out, but couldn’t make herself go out there and face him.
Another zip, zip, zip and he had the back and walls stabilized.
Leave when he comes in, she thought, but he lifted the front of the tent and
took up all the space, bringing the middle of the tent pole so it slid through
her light grip and the roof climbed as he neared her. Then he was standing
before her, the narrow pole between them, his tanned face tinged by the
translucent red of the fabric, his gaze fixed on hers.
He slid his hands over her limp ones and guided the bottom end of the pole into
place.
She tried to look away, but he was tall and very close. He smelled good. Earthy
and sweaty, but not overpowering. Masculine and intriguing. Aside from her
mother’s specialist, she’d never met a man with such an air of command and that
physician had been white-haired and potbellied. Zafir was in his prime, not just
healthy, but radiating supremacy.
In the back of her mind, she knew she was behaving like some kind of rock-band
superfan, speechless in the presence of a man with star quality, unable to move,
but he was so incredible. She found herself staring into his eyes for too long.
She knew it was too long, but she couldn’t look away from those crystal
blue-green depths. They quested, delving into hers, demanding something she
didn’t even understand.
Say something, she thought, and let her tongue wet her lips.
His gaze lowered to her mouth.
Her breath evaporated.
She found her own gaze dropping to his mouth, wondering how it would feel to
have those smooth lips rubbing against hers. Her heart was fluttering like a
trapped bird, her pulse pounding in her ears.
He lifted his hand to hover hotly next to her cheek, scorching her. His brows
jerked in some type of struggle. Was he going to kiss her?
It was remarkable yet terrifying. Did she really want to do this? It was so
wrong, but he was right there.
“Miss Davenport, are you in there?” Bashira called from outside.
Fern’s heart went into free fall. Her conscience gave her a hard shake and she
jerked back, shocked.
“I am,” she stammered, discovering her hand was still trapped under Zafir’s on
the pole.
His grip tightened briefly before he released her with a flare of his fingers.
He lifted away his touch as though she’d burned him. A muscle ticked in his
cheek. He looked very displeased. Accusatory, but also confused.
She surreptitiously touched her mouth, and avoided looking at him as she edged
around him to open the flap of the tent.
About Dani Collins
Award winning author Dani Collins wrote for 25 years before selling to Harlequin
Mills & Boon in London in May of 2012. Since then, she’s turned in more than
a dozen titles to Harlequin Presents and HarlequinE and four small town
contemporary novellas to Montana Born. She has even found homes for some of her
previously rejected manuscripts, including indie-publishing her single title
romantic comedy, HUSTLED TO THE ALTAR and signing with a small press for her
medieval fantasy, THE HEALER.
Dani doesn’t have any hobbies. She’s too busy writing. Her latest books are THE SHEIKH'S
SINFUL SEDUCTION, a March release from Harlequin Presents and THE BACHELOR'S
BABY from Montana Born, available on Amazon.
Stay current with Dani’s new releases by joining her newsletter or visiting her here:
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Purchase THE SHEIKH'S SINFUL SEDUCTION
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