Ink Motions - Interview with Lexi Post
What is the inspiration you use?
My erotic romances are inspired by the classics. So in this case, Passion’s Poison was inspired by Nathaniel Hawthorne’s short story, “Rappaccini’s Daughter.” Hawthorne created a poisonous heroine and a man who realized he was becoming poisonous by being around her. My Beatrice Rappaccini is a descendent from the first one and she must release her poisons through sex or she will die. Unfortunately, her poisons will cause her partners to become ill, and if she stays with one too long, she can kill him. This does make falling in love a bit of a risk ;-)
What is your writing style? Do you just sit down and write or do you create character sketches, outlines, or notes?
I do not plot. I think about my two main characters and their goals, motivations and conflicts. Then I figure out who or what the villain may be and what the black moment will entail and then I sit down and see where they take me. I usually have to cut a bit when I’m done, but it is a very enjoyable process. and the theme grows naturally.
Walk me though the way you create a novel from conception to completion.
First I read the story that inspires me. Then for weeks I let it percolate in my mind, think about those few elements I have to have. Then I sit down and write, 5-7 days a week for two months straight. When I’m done, I have a rough draft. Then I revise and send it chapter by chapter to my critique partner. Then I revise based on her comments and when complete I send to my beta reader. Then I fix any issues she may have found. Then I polish the whole manuscript. Then I review all the corrections my editor made on my last manuscripts and make sure they aren’t in my latest. Then I send it to my editor. She takes over from there.
What is the type of voice you use and why?
My stories are serious romance, but I add a light humor and a little sarcasm once in awhile, sometimes harsh and sometimes fun. It is my natural voice in person and something I embrace in my writing.
How many novels have you written including all works in progress you are currently working on?
I have two erotic romances published with a third contracted for 2014. I have three other completed romances that need a various amount of revision before giving to my agent to sell. I also have a short WIP and two series that are in various stages.
Who is your "writing idol"? I.E. Who do you like and what is it about their writing that captures your soul?
I love Jennifer Ashley/Allyson James. She knows how to write alpha heroes that the reader can’t help but root for and she knows how to keep the pace moving so that just as the reader is catching her breath, something else happens. Jennifer is my role model and has been a great advisor. Just check out my acknowledgements in Masque for exactly what I think about her J
Where are the bodies buried? IE Is there any old works in progress you threw aside and decided not to complete and why?
I have two WIPs that are in stasis. One is halfway written, but after my sister pointed out some of the problems in it and I agreed with her, I decided to wait before doing the major overhaul it would need. The other was a story that I wrote about 70 pages of and then found my own hero. When I went back to it months later, my computer crashed and I lost almost all of it. I may never rewrite that one.
What is your current work in progress and how did you get the idea for it?
My current work in progress is Passion of Sleepy Hollow which my editor contracted on proposal. My inspiration was obviously Washington Irving’s “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.” My ideas for this story came long before we heard there was going to be a new television series on FOX. My stories take a lot from the originals and this one is no different. In my story, the hero is the Headless Horseman. I did watch the television show and I think the only thing we have in common is a connection between the past and present. Other than that, they are very different interpretations. My critique partner is going through this story now. It should come out in early 2014.
Are there any last comments you may want to include?
Yes. I have been told that my erotic romances are hot sex combined with a “whole lot of story,” so if a reader is looking for the highs and lows of falling in love with steamy, intimate encounters, then my full length books will definitely please J
Beatrice Rappaccini is tired of the one-night stands that keep her alive. Tired of the illness she causes when she releases her sexual poisons into her partners. But when she meets Zach Woodman, everything changes. Desperate for what she can’t have, she puts her heart and life on the line, ignoring the anonymous letters warning her to stay away from Zach.
Zach Woodman, logger turned chainsaw artist, has the perfect life, but no one to share it with after the deaths of the women he loved. Fascinated by the sexually experienced yet naïve Bea, he promises himself he will end their hot relationship before fate takes another beautiful woman from the world.
But he discovers Bea has no idea how to have a relationship, and he is perplexed by her strange behavior, hippie mother, six fathers and her request to give him every man’s sex fantasy. It is only when he might lose her that he realizes he must make a decision that will break his heart either way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt from Passion’s Poison
Chapter One
Present day
Zach Woodman was too local to be her lover.
Beatrice Rappaccini reminded herself of that fact as she drank in the sight of the shirtless man using a chainsaw in the forest clearing. The stark muscles in his arms and back danced with the movements of the machine as he angled it through a massive log standing on its end. His jeans stretched against straining thigh muscles braced in a slightly bent position, his construction boots encased in mud.
Bea tried to breathe, but the heat infusing her flesh overwhelmed her. What was happening? She had released her body poisons less than two nights ago down in the city, but this desire making her heart beat as fast as a hummingbird’s wings felt different. This couldn’t be good.
She gulped in air, desperate to control her breathing even as her high-heeled boots sank deep into the mud of the forest floor.
Zach moved to the side of the log and carved out a deep groove. Bea watched his pectorals tense under the layer of dirt covering his chest as he held the machine steady.
Mesmerized, she tried to take a deep breath but her lungs constricted, refusing to allow in the cool forest air. Her head spun as darkness encroached on her peripheral vision. Oh damn. She pulled her feet from the muck and sat down hard on a stump nearby. Dropping her head between her knees, she closed her eyes and focused her attention on inhaling.
As oxygen flowed into her lungs, the clearing grew quiet and unease replaced her near panic. She opened her eyes to find two boots standing in front of her. Silently, she wished she could crawl under the granite rock lying between those feet.
Since that wasn’t an option, she lifted her head. Zach’s sweat-streaked six-pack abs came into view above the edge of his blue jeans. Her stomach clenched. It tightened even more as his muscled chest, complete with wood shavings caught among the short, dark hairs, seized her attention. She took another calming breath, ignoring the growing warmth between her legs, thankful she remained seated.
Her gaze reached his angular face, where she found he had taken off his goggles. His green eyes, filled with curiosity, stared at her. His mouth quirked. “Are you okay?”
She shivered as his baritone voice slid through her like an otter through water, leaving ripples of weakness suffusing her body. She swallowed a groan. Mentally, she reached for the hospitality professional she’d trained to be. “Yes, I just need a moment.” The breathy answer was anything but professional.
His scrutiny didn’t leave her face. “Can I get you something? A bottle of water? A beer?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
His grin pulled the corners of his dark lips, moving the stubble of his unshaven face to form black arcs around the sides of his mouth. He turned and strode toward the log cabin she’d come upon at the end of the dirt driveway, his confident swagger demanding her attention.
She wrenched her gaze from his tight ass to give her body a chance to cool. She was here on business and her libido had to behave. Her body’s attraction to this man didn’t make sense. She had released her debilitating sexual toxins in a one-night stand on Saturday and had reached orgasm three times. It was only Monday. She should have a whole week of relief. Somehow, she had to gain control of herself.
By the time Zach returned with water and a beer, she hoped she appeared normal. He silently held out both. She accepted the water bottle while he opened the Bud Light and took a couple gulps. She stared as his Adam’s apple bobbed along the corded muscles of his neck. Desperate to dampen the heat in her body, she raised her drink and sipped.
He gestured toward her with the half-empty beer. “Feeling better?”
She swallowed the cool water and cleared her throat. “Yes, thank you. I’m not sure what happened. I probably should’ve had breakfast this morning.”
He looked at the sky before returning his attention to her. “Breakfast? It has to be about lunchtime.”
She tried a slight smile but feared it came across more as a grimace, so she offered her hand. “I’m Beatrice Rappaccini from the Lakeside Inn in Meriden.”
He grasped her hand in a strong grip, causing fire to shoot through her arm, across her body and straight to the juncture of her thighs. She almost squeaked in surprise.
“I’m Zach Woodman, but I imagine you already figured that out. What can I do for you, Ms. Rappaccini?”
Oh, the possibilities were endless. She looked at the zipper of his jeans and wished it open. He could strip and push his hard cock into her hungry body and make her come until she screamed. She’d never screamed before, but she had a feeling she could with him.
“Ms. Rappaccini?”
She started and pulled her gaze from his crotch. Had she seen a bulge growing there or was it her imagination? What was happening to her? “Please, call me Bea.” Oh that sounded way too husky. She really needed to get a hold of herself.
She stood, wavering a bit in her heels. He grasped her arm and steadied her, getting wood shavings on the sleeve of her green dress, but she didn’t think he noticed. Did he notice anything about her, such as the fact her body reacted to him like wildfire to wind? With the constant smirk on his face, it was hard to know.
She tried to find a semblance of composure as she removed her arm from his grip. “I’m here to commission a carving for one of the Larsens’ inns, specifically, the Lakeside. The Larsens would like something unique.”
He took another swig of beer, but his gaze never left her. “Hmm, something unique, as in abstract, or just different from my other carvings?”
Bea shook her head. “Definitely not abstract. The Larsens prefer rustic to fit in with the environment. I wandered through your shop,” she pointed back toward the log cabin with the sign “Zach’s” burned into it, “but nothing there is quite right.”
He wiped his forehead with the beer bottle as he contemplated, staring at her with his brows drawn together in concentration.
Did he think about the carving or her? She blushed. Since when couldn’t she read a man? Her very survival depended on her ability to find men who were attracted to her. So why was he different? And why was she so affected?
He drained his beer and smirked. “I think this will take some time and I need to wash up. Would you mind staying for lunch while we work on it? You could use some food and I need a break.”
She shrugged. “Sure, I’d be happy to.” She’d be happy to do whatever he wished, take off her clothes, sit on that log, let him—ugh. She had to stop this.
He turned away from her. “Great. This way.”
Passion’s Poison is available in electronic formats:
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Ellora’s Cave
Bio of Lexi Post
Lexi Post spent years in higher education taking and teaching courses about classical literature. From the early American short story, Edgar Allan Poe’s "The Masque of the Red Death" to the 20th century American epic The Grapes of Wrath, from War and Peace to the Bhagavad Gita, she's read, studied, and taught great classic literature.
But Lexi's first love is romance novels. In an effort to marry her two first loves, she started writing erotic romance inspired by the classics and found she loved it. Lexi feels there is no end to the romantic inspiration she can find in great classic literature.
Lexi lives with her husband and cat in the Caribbean where gorgeous sunsets, warm weather, and driving on the left are the norm. She makes her own ice cream every weekend, loves bright colors, and you will never see her without a hat (unless she is going incognito).
For more information about Lexi Post:
website: http://www.lexipostbooks.com/
Blog: http://www.happilyeverafterthoughts.com/
twitter: https://twitter.com/LexiPost
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/lexipostbooks
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6915542.Lexi_Post
An snippet from 
“Kind of dangerous, don’t you think, just inviting people in without knowing who it is?” he asked, giving her a disapproving look before putting a bouquet of flowers on the table.
Finally he broke the silence. “Brace yourself.” His voice was a hoarse raw sound.
An snippet from 
He smelled as good as he looked and his body was firm. Shay’s mouth tingled with the need to bite on his luscious chest.
