Ink Motions with Laura Gomez

Laura Gomez is from Buckinghamshire, England. She writes contemporary gay romance novels about offbeat men, with plenty of romantic angst, steamy sex, and happy ever afters.

She has an Arts degree and an MA in Creative Writing from Goldsmiths, University of London. Which means come the zombie apocalypse she has no worthwhile skills.

 

 

Website: LauraGomezBooks.wordpress.com

Blog: LauraGomezBooks.wordpress.com/myblog/

Twitter: twitter.com/LauraGomezBooks

 

Ink Motions - Interview

 

How did you get the idea for your novel?

 

The initial idea I had was very simple. What if you fell asleep in the backseat of your car, and woke up to find your car stolen?

 

That soon expanded into more questions. What if the people who stole the car were on the run from the police? What if they decided to kidnap you? And what if one of them was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen?

 

 

What is your writing style? Do you just sit down and write or do you create a storyboard, character sketches, outlines, or notes?

 

All sorts of characters, conflicts and scenes pop into my head constantly. But I have to wait until a handful of those characters, conflicts and scenes swim together in my mind and mesh just right. Then I get the "holy crap, that's perfect" feeling and know I've got a potential book.

 

That's when I collect all my notes, ideas and pictures together and the work starts. I can't write at all until I've thought of the right title. Then I outline a basic plot, but I don't like to plan everything down to the last detail, I'm too impatient to get started.

 

I never write characters unless I'm in love with them (be they good or evil) and they're the thing that keeps me inspired and excited to write every day.

 

 

How many novels have you written, including all works in progress you are currently working on?

 

This is my debut published book, but probably the fifth book I’ve written.

 

Almost everything I read is gay romance, and it’s the genre I love writing the most. So I'm currently writing two more M/M romance novels.

 

The story I'm working on now is influenced by the movie Rear Window. But the Jimmy Stewart character is younger and sexier, with tattoos, and his girlfriend is a boyfriend. Plus there's probably going to be a bit more sex, and less falling out of windows. But you never know.

 

 

Who is your “writing idol”? ie, who do you like and what is it about their writing that captures your soul?

 

I love Josh Lanyon and Neil Plakcy more than life itself. But Stephen King has owned my soul since I was 12 years old. I will always be wary of sink drains, mice, time travel, chattering teeth, dolls, clowns, lawnmowers and a million other mundane things because of him. He gets right inside your head, and somehow verbalises deep, primal fears you never knew you had.

 

 

What is your favorite plot line type?

 

In romance, I love stories about two strangers stuck together somewhere. Preferably in very close quarters. They can’t escape, they’re forced to clash, and hopefully somewhere down the line hate turns to lust.

 

 

What is a good villain?

 

In this book, my villain is someone I’m genuinely quite scared of. But he’s not one dimensional. He has hidden depths (though they are pretty damn hidden) which make him a little more complex and interesting. A villain has goals, fears and dreams, just like anyone else. He might be the villain in your story, but he’s the hero in his.

 

 

Is there any advice you can offer to anyone who would like to write?

 

Just make sure you finish. Don’t give up halfway through a book to work on another bright, exciting new idea. However tempting that is (and it always is). Finish if it kills you!

 

 

 

 

 

Blurb for Northwest of Normal

A gay romantic suspense novel from Loose Id. Ben's on a solo road trip home from college when his car gets stolen--with him in the back seat! The thieves are brothers on the lam; Randall's a thug with a gun, but Murphy's the most beautiful man Ben's ever seen, and as much a hostage as Ben.

Tied to Murphy with his wrists bound, forced to share a motel room and even a bed night after night, Ben's not sure he wants to escape anymore. He and Murphy slowly turn from enemies to secret lovers. Secret being the operative word. If Randall finds out he'll kill them both.

 

Buy link

 

http://www.loose-id.com/northwest-of-normal.html

Available for preorder now from Loose Id at 10% off (25 % off with Loose Id VIP).

Available from Amazon.com, etc July 7

 

Excerpt from Northwest of Normal

 

Ben saw the lust in Murphy’s eyes. Ben couldn’t believe it was because of him. He saw it all written out on Murphy’s face even in the streetlights. In the bright motel room it would be obvious. Randall mustn’t see them yet. He’d know. Murphy agreed to smoke a cigarette before they went in.

 

“You want to share?” He offered Ben a cigarette from his crumpled pack.

 

No, Ben just wanted to watch. He hoped Murphy would take a long, deep drag on it and hollow out his cheeks again. He’d been seeing that image every time he closed his eyes for the past three days. Murphy shrugged and lit it. Ben was sure Murphy was taking tiny puffs on purpose. Ben didn’t normally go for smokers, but somehow, everything Murphy did looked so damned good.

 

“You just gonna stare at me?”

 

Ben blushed and nodded. Murphy blew smoke in his face.

 

As soon as they stepped inside the motel room, Randall grabbed his stuff, barely sparing them a glance. Randall handed the gun to Murphy, who took it awkwardly.

 

“You watch him. I don’t trust him. He might be thinking of running off.” Randall jabbed a thick finger into Murphy’s shoulder. “It is very fucking important that you don’t let him. You hear me? I’ll be back before you know it.” He pushed Murphy’s head hard in a gesture that was probably supposed to be affectionate. “Bye, love ya.”

 

“Love you too,” Murphy mumbled.

 

Randall let the door slam behind him. There was a moment of silence. Murphy pointed the gun at Ben’s head, looked deep into his eyes, and mouthed the word bang. Ben was surprised to find his cock twitch in pleasure, and he swallowed hard. There was a very good chance Murphy had no idea how sexy he looked doing that.

 

“Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?” Ben asked.

 

The confusion on Murphy’s face was comical, and Ben grinned. Murphy wasn’t used to people flirting with him. For a second, a small part of his brain screamed at him not to flirt with an armed redneck. But Murphy was no normal redneck. Maybe there was no such thing.

 

“Is it loaded?”

 

Murphy pointed the gun carefully at the floor and opened the chamber to check for bullets. “Yeah, it is.”

 

Well, shit. Randall really was carrying around a loaded gun. Ben made a mental note to be more scared of him. He watched as Murphy made doubly sure he’d clicked on the safety, and then reached out to place the gun on the TV table.

 

“Wait,” said Ben. Murphy looked up, his gun hand frozen in midair. “Aren’t you gonna hold me hostage or anything?”

 

“Whaddaya mean?”

 

The crooked, nervous smile on Murphy’s face tugged on Ben’s heart. “I’m dangerous. I’m a flight risk. I might abscond at any moment. You have to keep me under control.”

 

“Oh yeah?”

 

Something flickered in Murphy’s eyes. Now he was getting it. Murphy kept hold of the gun and slowly approached Ben, backing him up against the wall. Ben closed his eyes. He heard a click near his ear, and something cold and metallic pushed up against his temple. The hard muzzle slid softly across his cheek and down to his mouth.

 

“Like this?”

 

Ben nodded. Murphy ran the gun slowly across his lips, then moved it down to his throat, shoving the muzzle under his jaw. It clicked again, and Ben opened his eyes.

 

“Want me to take out the bullets?” Murphy whispered into his ear. Then nipped his earlobe and slid one hand around the back of his neck, gripping hard.

 

Ben swallowed and ignored Murphy’s question. It might have been weird and dangerous, but it was more of a turn-on if it was loaded. He squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on the sensation of the hard pistol traveling slowly down his neck, over his chest and stomach, and past the bottom of his crumpled T-shirt. The gun continued down until Murphy pressed it hard against Ben’s cock through his jeans. Ben ground his hips forward against it. Now he wondered if he’d made a mistake. The last thing he needed was his junk getting blown off before he’d used it with Murphy.

 

“Murph,” Ben panted breathlessly. “Murphy, stop.”

 

Murphy double-checked that the safety was on and threw the gun onto the bed. “We don’t have to play with that. We’ve got other stuff.”

 

“Like what?”

 

He shrugged. “We’ve got the rope.”