about her historical romance, Her Heart’s
While Olivia does her virtual book tour, she’s going to be giving away a $25
Amazon or Barnes and Noble gift card (winner’s choice) to a lucky randomly
drawn person. To be entered for a chance to win, use the form below. To increase your chances of winning, feel free
to visit her other tour stops and enter there, too!
romantic tales to pacify her muse and entertain her friends. She believes in
making her characters work for their happy endings.
photography, and the constant companionship of several rather irregularly trimmed
Welcome, Olivia. Please tell us about your current release.
Her Heart’s Liege is a fun,
action-packed tale in the Arthurian tradition of knights, battles, and
chivalry, except that it flips the conventional gender roles and features a
responsible female knight/guardian who is tasked with protecting an
exasperating, irresponsible prince.
unlikely hero as they are tempered in the forge of adventure, political
intrigue, and invasion. Events conspire to help them realize their
potential as leaders, fighters, and of course, romantic partners.
What inspired you to write this book?
how many of them are sausage fests. The one woman in the movie talked
about adventure, but all she actually did was scream and get herself in trouble
(by leaving the custody of male protectors) so she had to be rescued by men
(and returned to the custody of male protectors). I looked around and saw
all the little girls sitting in the theater drinking in that kind of female
role model. I decided I wanted to provide an alternative, in the
relatively rare tradition of women like Joan of Arc, Leia Organa, or possibly
Brienne of Tarth.
When Alex finally went up, she found Prince Holden squinting into the cloudy
tin mirror hanging on the room’s wall, working to neaten his beard a bit with
his razor. Trimming himself evenly appeared to be an uphill battle, one in
which he was achieving limited success at best. He’d bathed, but he hadn’t
bothered with a shirt, though he’d put his breeches on.
covered, and hoped her pose couldn’t be construed as a provocative one, but she
refused to move.
steady and resolute.
afraid it isn’t my choice to make.”
His voice was thoughtful. “I suppose it isn’t.”
suspiciously. “It isn’t yours, either. Your father wanted me to take you
west. I’ll do as ordered, if I have to bind you and haul you in the bed of the
go east.” He looked at her evenly.
lifted those buckets, estimating the new strength of his sword-arm. “I
think not.” She might still beat him, with luck. But then again…
without thinking, and he tilted his head, raising a brow.
single small table away from the wall and over to the bed. There wasn’t much
space, and there was only one straight chair; he had to sit on the bed, leaving
the chair to her. “What will you wager?”
money, the wagon, the lodgings, the weapons, and even their food were all
the heavens. This was madness.
flexing his fingers. “Do you accept the wager?”
to do their best, she was certain. “No.”
hot, and his mouth curved upward.
hurt the other.”
wooden sword.” How did he manage to advance on her even when
he remained seated and unmoving? She had no idea. But the more she dithered,
the worse her authority suffered.
get it over with.”
than she liked. He moved his left hand to grip hers. She scowled at him,
settling into position, planning her strategy. She could use her nails to
aggravate the healing blisters on his hands, but that wouldn’t be sporting.
She’d have to take the advantage early and never let him recover.
push, anticipating his strength. He was more powerful than she’d feared. His
brow creased, and he held her first counter-surge.
he’d been working hard. Their hands quivered, and her muscles started to burn.
there, along with surprise and pleasure.
I’ve just sent my second novel to my publisher (and am already working on a
second novel in that universe). It’s a paranormal romance about a
reluctant, shy incubus and his struggle to come to terms with his identity as a
predator, forced to take sexual energy from human women in order to
accidentally drained her to death. This traumatized him so much he stays
isolated and only takes what he has to in order to survive. After
centuries of this, though, he’s made a critical error: he slipped up and fell
ancient enemy surfaces, determined to take revenge for that long-ago
death. He traps the incubus in a situation where is he can’t help but
drain and kill the woman he loves. A globe-spanning adventure ensues as
the couple races against time to find a way to for her to survive their
When did you first consider yourself a writer?
is a writer? What makes one a writer? If it’s just writing because
you want to even when you don’t have to, I’ve been one since second or third
grade. If it’s writing what you love in defiance of various authority
figures who don’t want you to write that, I’ve been one since junior high
school, and there’s no end in sight. If it’s writing for money, I’ve been
one since my middle twenties, when I landed a brief job as a newspaper
correspondent. If it’s using writing as your sole source of income, then
who knows if I’ll ever become a writer?
Lois comes in holding a newspaper article Brian wrote and compliments him,
saying it’s so well done it’s almost like he’s a real writer! Brian just stares at her, kind of like I’m staring at this question.
just waiting to be taught language skills and develop enough manual dexterity
to wield a pencil or use a keyboard.
Do you write full-time? If so, what’s your work day like? If not, what do
you do other than write and how do you find time to write?
I don’t have the luxury of writing full-time, unfortunately. I have a
very demanding day job that involves lots of contact with very demanding
clients and huge amounts of paperwork. I have to squeeze my writing in
around the edges. Living in the world of my writing makes me feel very
much as if I have a secret, second life that none of my co-workers or clients
fresh ideas, and if I don’t have paperwork I have to complete before a looming
deadline, I’ll work on my latest story until I have to shower and go to my day
job. I’ll work my day job for anywhere from 7 to 13 hours before dragging
home, exhausted, to tend to the business side of my writing. Usually in
the evenings I tackle the less creatively demanding work of publicity, editing,
and similar tasks. Then I fall into bed, exhausted, to get ready to wake
up and do it all over again!
for that, there’s no way I’d be able to write. I am amazed by people who
can balance a family and children with the kind of time and dedication it takes
to be a writer.
When writing, I quietly throw in dozens, if not hundreds, of cultural
references. I use small isolated statements, pieces of clothing, or items
from favorite television shows, books, and movies. Sometimes I borrow a location
or have in mind a particular person (either from real life or an actor) to play
a character. These things help spark my creativity, give the story a
feeling of fullness, and sometimes push the story in interesting directions I
he gave me the idea. He felt it provides a mosaic effect that makes a
writer’s work more texturally interesting. He believed if you have a
fragment from another work of art in your own writing, then the entire artwork
is implicit in, and becomes a part of, your own writing. That can make
your work a broader and deeper reading experience both for you and for the
audience (especially if a reader subconsciously recognizes the reference). Using well-known fragments can help you conjure a very specific and detailed
As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
female characters who inspired me early in life was on the short-lived cop
show 240 Robert, on which Joanna Cassidy, better known as Eddie
Valiant’s girlfriend in Who Framed Roger Rabbit, portrayed a tough,
no-nonsense lady who piloted a chopper in a search and rescue operation
designed to catch crooks and get accident victims to safety. I was
enchanted by the idea that a girl could do that kind of thing. Also, the
woman knew how to rock an awful orange jumpsuit.
Anything additional you want to share with the readers?
let someone else crush your life’s deepest, most passionate dreams. There
will probably always be someone there to say “you can’t/shouldn’t follow
them.” Do it anyway.