Fiona McGier, EroticRomance Author

KNIGHT MOVES:
Although they’re torn apart, they still hold a piece of each other’s heart.

Blurb: After receiving his grade twelve diploma and marking his eighteenth birthday,
René Oshawee cannot fight the temptation seventeen-year-old high school junior Billy
Redsky blatantly offers now that what they share has become taboo.

When their secret romance is blown into the open, Billy’s foster parents send René to
Toronto to complete the last of his schooling under the supervision of a family friend, leaving Billy behind at their Ojibway community.

Now Billy and René must make the biggest decision of their lives—fight for the true love they know they’ll never find with anyone else or go their separate ways.

Hello everyone. I’m Maggie Blackbird, an Ojibway from Northwestern Ontario. I write romance starring Canada’s Indigenous People. To celebrate the release of Knight Moves, book three in the When We Were Young series, I have hero number two in the interview chair. René Oshawee isn’t a big talker, but let’s see what I can pull from his zipped lips! I’m taking it easy on him by only asking ten questions.

Maggie: Okay, I spent a lot of time with you and Billy writing your series, and I know you don’t like anyone getting too close. So I’ll take it easy on the questions. Sound good, René?
René: (nods, he’s drinking cream soda and smoking a cigarette)
1. Maggie: Here’s the first question. The third book in the series, KNIGHT MOVES, takes place during the year 1998. We’re post-grunge. What music are you listening to now?
René: The same stuff. Tool. Fear Factory. Rage Against the Machine. I’m also enjoying a few new bands such as Rammstein, Korn, System of a Down, Opeth… I just purchased The Offspring’s latest CD Americana.
2. Maggie: What’s your favourite scene in KNIGHT MOVES?
René: Uh…seriously? (squints) I’m not sure. If I had to pick one, the scene during dinner when I take Billy out to celebrate his birthday. It’s a pretty special moment.
3. Maggie: I must admit I enjoyed writing that scene for the two of you. Moving along, what do you love most about Billy Redsky, and what makes you want to shake him?
René: Wow…you sure get personal, hey? (glances away, then glances back) I dunno. He’s a great guy. (shrugs) What do you want me to say? (takes drag) I love everything about him. Y’know? As for shaking him, well, he’s very persistent. It’s something I love about him, ’cause if it wasn’t for his persistence, we wouldn’t be together, but at times, I do wish he’d give his pushing a rest.
4. Maggie: Understandable. Sometimes assets can become liabilities. If KNIGHT MOVES was a candle, what scent would it be, and why?
René: (squints) Scent? (blinks) Uh…I dunno. Maybe the smell up on the mountain. Billy loves it up there. I’d go with jack pine. It smells good and reminds me of Billy.
5. Maggie: If KNIGHT MOVES had a theme song, what would it be and why?
René: I’d go with Crazy World by Aslan. It’s how I feel about Billy and what I wish I could do for him.
6. Maggie: If KNIGHT MOVES was a colour, what would it be and why?
René: Cinnamon. Billy’s painted a wicked-cool mural on his bedroom wall of his favourite bear. He calls him Pumpkin because he’s the colour of cinnamon.
7. Maggie: What are some of your pet peeves?
René: People who make excuses and don’t own their shit. Like Billy’s asshole older brother.
8. Maggie: Yes, Hoyt is quite the thorn in your side, isn’t he? Anyhoo, next question. What is something unique/quirky about you?
René: I can’t think of anything unique or quirky. I’m simply a guy who loves music. I listen to it while I shower, while I study, while I’m driving, while I’m on the computer. I need it 24/7.
9. Maggie: Tell everyone where you grew up at.
René: I’m from Thunder Mountain First Nation. It’s a rez a stone’s throw from Thunder Bay, Ontario.
10. Maggie: Describe yourself in five words.
René: Really? (blinks) Uh…Creative, mellow, a good friend, musical… (shrugs) I dunno, I’d say loyal.
Maggie: René, that was a great effort. It really was. I know how hard answering questions can be for you. If it was Billy in the chair, I’d have ten pages going on. Thanks very much for taking the time to sit down and let me pick your brain.
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EXCERPT
The waitress wove her way through the crowded restaurant. She held a slice of birthday cake. Under the dim lighting, people dined at the many tables covered in white cloths and the chairs outfitted in red felt coverings.
René curled his fingers together and set his elbows on his place setting. The flickering candle in the yellow holder caught the glow of Billy’s smooth skin. He was seventeen but passing for nineteen because the hostess, at the beginning of their meal, had asked if they’d wanted anything from the bar.
With his hair cropped over his ears and light spikes to his bangs gelled slightly to the side, there was a true maturity to Billy now. The sprinkling of whiskers above his mouth offered a masculine depth to his boyish looks.
“Here you go. Happy birthday,” the waitress announced.
“Thanks.” Billy flashed her his cheeky grin. “Great meal. The best prime rib I’ve ever had.”
“I’ll be sure to tell the chef. Now, are you sure you don’t want anything from the bar for an after-dinner drink? You turned nineteen today.”
“It’s okay,” René replied. “Some coffee would be nice, though.”
“Right away.” The waitress left.
“C’mon, we could’ve had some beers.” By the twinkle in Billy’s dark eyes, he was jesting.
“You’re driving. Neither of us is old enough. With the luck you generate, the bartender would’ve told her to card us, anyway. Coffee’ll suffice.” An itch to reach across and take Billy’s hand crawled along René’s palm. God, this sucked having to hide what they felt for each other.
In the past, he hadn’t minded. Why playing closet this evening irritated him, René wasn’t sure.
***********************************
Author Bio: An Ojibway from Northwestern Ontario, Maggie resides in the country with her husband and their fur babies, two beautiful Alaskan Malamutes.  When she’s not writing, she can be found pulling weeds in the flower beds, mowing the huge lawn, walking the Mals deep in the bush, teeing up a ball at the golf course, fishing in the boat for walleye, or sitting on the deck at her sister’s house, making more wonderful memories with the people she loves most.

Web Site: https://maggieblackbird.com/
Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/maggieblackbirdauthor/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/BlackbirdMaggie/
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Linked In: https://www.linkedin.com/in/maggie-blackbird-032798169/
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Maggie-Blackbird/e/B07KQP1FFG
eXtasy Books Author Page: https://www.extasybooks.com/maggie-blackbird/
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Obviously, one of my favorite creative outlets is writing. I've subbed for lots of art classes in high schools over the years, but I tell the kids I don't have any visual arts abilities. I create with words. I always have characters in my head, and whatever I experience or view or read can make my mind race ahead with another story line. I've realized that once I write the end in a book, that group of characters is silent. Then the others start to talk loudly, and I'm off on another writing tear.
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I also like to crochet. My daughter teases me, telling me I'm such a gramma, because I bring my bag o' yarn and my crochet hook where-ever I go. I don't watch TV, I just listen to it, because I'm working on an afghan. When I'm sitting around with family, talking, I'm looking down mostly, because I'm crocheting. This is my second grandson with the baby-sized blanket I made for him. My son and DIL tell me that he's like Linus in the Peanuts cartoon, and his gamma goes with him everywhere. If his is in the wash, he'll settle for the one I made his older brother--but only temporarily. His older brother now has a big boy blanket for his twin bed.

I figure that over the past few years, I've made almost 50 afghans, of varying sizes, for my four kids, as well as their S.O.s. I've also made them for my nieces and nephews, for my sister-in-law, and for my close friends. I tell them all that when they feel blue, they should wrap themselves in the afghan I made for them, and that's me, giving them a hug.
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I've been sewing since I was old enough to thread a needle. Over the years I've made clothing for myself, as well as Halloween costumes for all of my kids when they were young. Lately I've spent months sewing masks for my children and my relatives and friends. These are just a few of the ones I've made. During my college years, I spent two years working at an alterations place. So I can alter clothing, as well as construct it. Mom taught me how to sew, and I still use her 1948 Singer sewing machine. I've got a picture of her smiling at me, right above it.
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And I can't forget about baking. I'm an okay cook, and I can follow recipes to make muffins and cookies. But it's pies that I'm known for. On the tab of my website marked Pies, I give you my never-fail pie crust recipe, along with the fillings for many of my family's favorite pies. There's nothing better than a pie, still warm from the oven, after you've smelled it baking for an hour! Sour cherry pie is my favorite--I just made one for my husband's recent birthday. And yes, it looked this good!

CONTEST!! Visit my Pies page and tell me which kind looks the best to you, or which one you'd like to try to make. I'll draw a couple of names from the comments I get--those two winners will get a coupon for a free download of For the Love of His Life, in which the heroine bakes pies!
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So what kinds of creative outlets do other author's have? Click this link to find out! Enjoy!

This month's topic is: How do you choose your characters' names? Are there any you avoid?

I choose the names of my characters by thinking of what nationality they are,  looking through some name lists, both for first names and for last names. I use the pronunciation guides to try out saying the name, to see if it fits the character. I've even changed the name after the character made it clear to me that what I chose wasn't her/his name.

In some cases, I choose names of people I've known and admired. In one of my current WIPs, I'm using the name of a woman I was friends when our kids went to school together, before she moved to another state. She then was diagnosed with cancer, and passed on years ago. I've always wanted to honor her memory by using her name. When the book is published, I'll send a copy to her sister.

For my Minnesota Romances, I had to use Russian names for the ex-KGB agents. Luckily when the second and third books were first published, the editor spoke Russian, so she was a big help correcting some of the Russian phrases I'd looked up.

For my Reyes Family Romances, I had to use Hispanic names, and at the time I was taking conversational Spanish classes. My professor was more than happy to vet my Spanish phrases. He even told me that for the name Catalina, the siblings might Americanize by using the nickname Cat, but the mother would probably use the more traditional Cata.

When I was having The Right Choice republished under a changed title, I toyed with changing the name of the heroine, since Pamela wasn't a very exciting name to me. But the character let me know in no uncertain terms. that she was indeed Pamela, and her long-time lover called her Mel. I backed off to make her happy!

As for names to avoid, I'll never use my own name, or those of my husband or any of our kids--or any extended family members either. And close friends will never see their names in my books, though I might use situations or events we've talked about, as part of the action in any story.

But in regards to my title above, there is a man's name that I have particular antipathy toward. In college I dated three different men with that name, and all of them sliced and diced me, each in their own way. In my books (not the freebie) that have a pain-in-the-butt man--yup--that's his name. He will have different last names, but his first name will always be the same.

If you've read any of my books with an unpleasant jerk in them, give me the title and tell me your guess for the name. If you're right, I'll give you a coupon for a free download of any book I have published on Smashwords.

Now continue on to see what the other authors have to say about how they name their characters.

Skye Taylor http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea
Diane Bator http://dbator.blogspot.ca/
Anne Stenhouse http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com
Victoria Chatham http://www.victoriachatham.com
Beverley Bateman http://beverleybateman.blogspot.ca/
Helena Fairfax http://www.helenafairfax.com/blog
Dr. Bob Rich https://wp.me/p3Xihq-2i7
Marci Baun http://www.marcibaun.com/blog/
Judith Copek http://lynx-sis.blogspot.com/
Connie Vines http://mizging.blogspot.com/
Rhobin L Courtright http://www.rhobincourtright.com

If you're too young to remember the way-back machine from The Bullwinkle cartoons, you're definitely too young to read any further! Shoo!

This is a quick trip way-back to my first published book, that started my first series, The Reyes Family Romances--the continuing saga of the various romances enjoyed by the members of a large Hispanic family. Believe me, since this was my first book, I had NO IDEA that the supporting characters would all demand their own books. But I've learned.

Tegan O'Neill is a divorced mother of two pre-teens. Things are tight, money-wise, so she and her bestie, Pattie, run a party-planning business. One of their friends from their neighborhood sends her brother-in-law to them when he needs to plan a party for a prospective client. The party will take place in a bar, with Patti doing all of the cooking, as usual. But when the client, Alexander Reyes, asks for a stripper to appear, the ladies are at a loss. They can't afford any of the services that provide dancers like that. So over a bottle of wine, Patti talks Tegan into doing the dancing herself. She's nervous, because her ex-husband didn't find her sexy at all. But she agrees to do it--with surprising consequences!
Alejandro Reyes hasn't had much time to date lately. He generally makes it a rule to never mix business with pleasure. But rules are made to be broken.

Alexander turned around to see a woman in a trench coat and over-sized hat, along with very dark sunglasses, stride into the room, and plug in a boom box in the outlet by the door.  She had long blonde hair and stilettos with four-inch heels on them, so she was an imposing figure, at over six feet tall.
     Once the music started, the men doing shots at the bar noticed her, and a shocked silence fell over them, as they watched her slowly dance her way over to the center of the room.  Once there, she unbuttoned her trench coat, and tossed her hat back towards the door.  In time to the slow, sensuous beat of the bluesy-style music, she now slowly removed her coat, to reveal a white silky blouse, buttoned all of the way up, but thin enough for her black bra to be seen through it, barely containing her ample breasts with their hard, pointy nipples already poking through the fabric and demanding attention.
     Alexander’s mouth went dry, and he could barely swallow.  The other men were now moving closer, grabbing chairs to sit on, settling down to watch, fascinated, as the woman tossed the coat back to join the hat, and they saw a black leather skirt, short enough for the black garters holding up the black silk stockings, to be seen.   The music now changed to the Santana song, “Black Magic Woman”, which had always been one of Alexander’s favorite songs to use to seduce women, since he had learned to do the cha-cha before he had even learned to walk. 
     Obviously this woman had learned from a master, since her dancing was flawlessly executed, and it was all Alexander could do to keep himself standing in one place and not rushing over to do the “dance of love” with her.  As she danced, she swayed her hips, and used her hands to draw attention alternately to her hips, then to the buttons on her blouse, that she was slowly unbuttoning, one at a time, from the top down.  Once she got all of the buttons undone, she teased them all by pretending to remove her blouse, flashing them with a quick view of her breasts spilling over the bra, then she put it back on to dance around some more. 
     By this time, the other men were making noises of excitement and enjoyment, as men usually do when they are in a group, and getting turned on together, by a scene they can’t join, but can enjoy watching.  No one attempted to touch her; they seemed to know that all they could do was watch.  Alexander found himself unable to move even if he had wanted to, since his erection had grown so large that his pants were too tight for him to even sit down. 
     The woman now tossed off her blouse, to join the hat and coat, and began to sway her hips, as she worked her hands around her abdomen, fondling herself, until she got both hands to the back of the skirt, and drew down the zipper.  This movement made her breasts almost fall out of the front of the bra, and the catcalls reflected the excitement the audience was feeling, as they waited hopefully, for her naked breasts to make an appearance.  The bra held its cargo in position, and the skirt was slowly drawn down, inch by inch, to reveal a black lacy thong that matched the bra.  The dancer slowly stepped out of the skirt, and that was thrown over to join the other discarded clothing.
     Beads of sweat were now on Alexander’s face, and he could feel them trickle down under his shirt, and run down his legs.  He didn’t think it was possible for him to feel any more aroused than he already was, when the music changed again, and this time to an Arabic-sounding piece of music, that made the woman begin to belly-dance and bump and grind her hips as if she was doing a world-class pole dance, only without a pole to rub herself on. 
     Her breasts rose and fell with her heavy breathing, her rounded abdomen and hips begged for someone to grab them and pleasure her, and the stockings and garters only served to emphasize the long legs she was using to dance around the middle of the room.  The thong left little to the imagination, and Alexander suddenly felt as if the room didn’t hold enough oxygen for him to breathe anymore.  Not being able to move, or take his eyes off of the blonde temptress that he had paid for, he raised his eyes to look away from the killer body that threatened to make him embarrass himself by coming in his pants in front of men he couldn’t afford such a gaffe with. 
     The fact that they all seemed to be feeling the same way didn’t matter.  He was the senior man here, the alpha.  He was the host, and the only one who had been to strip clubs before. What shocked him the most was that this woman didn’t have the bored look that most of the strippers he had seen wore when they were dancing.  She actually seemed to be as turned on by her dancing, as the men who were watching her were, and for that reason alone, she was worth every penny that she was being paid.  He now shook his head, trying to clear it, as he studied her face.  The dark glasses were still on, but she had a dreamy, aroused look on her face…then she smiled, in response to a hooted invitation from one of the men, and Alexander almost swallowed his own tongue, as he recognized her dimples.

Tegan was lost in the music, enjoying the fact that whenever she moved, the men appreciated it, and shouted out their encouragement.  They were inviting her to “Take it off, take it all off!”  She shook her head each time they yelled that at her, but she was sorely tempted to at least rip off her bra, and let them see how hot an almost-forty-year old woman could be.  She slowly circled around, letting everyone in the room get a good view of her from all sides, and found herself looking directly into the smoldering eyes of the man who was responsible for her being here. Their eyes locked, and she found it impossible to look away.
     She remembered that she had decided to dance as if she was trying to make the man she most wanted, so hot that he wouldn’t be able to resist her.  The shock of recognition was on his face now, along with a passion deep enough for her to want to drown herself in; she slowly undulated towards him, inviting him with her arms, to join her.  His eyes were almost black with arousal, and he looked dazed as he slowly began to move forward. 
     At that moment, she caught sight of Patti standing behind him, with her hands on her hips, and a look of warning on her face, as she slowly shook her head, mouthing, “NO!  Don’t do it!” 
     This acted like a slap of cold water in Tegan’s face, as she realized that she was about ten seconds away from throwing herself on her client, and having real sex with him in the middle of his party, and he was ready to go along with her! 
     The music now changed again, and she used the blues music as a coda to her dancing, as she now slowly backed away from the center of the room, still swaying her hips, but retreating back to where her clothes were, along with the boom box, by the door. Keeping her back to the door, she bent over, grabbed all of her discarded clothing, ripped the plug out of the wall, and made a hasty exit, into the hallway.
     She almost ran, as best she could in four-inch heels, down the hall to the manager’s office, where she had been allowed to change into her dancing clothes.  There wasn’t anyone in the office now, and her other clothes were where she had left them, on a couch in the waiting room outside the manager’s inner office.  By the light coming in from the door open to the hallway, she saw the desk where a secretary sat during the day, and she threw the boom box and the sunglasses down on the desktop and turned on a small light, then turned to go back to close the door, so she could change her clothes.  She kicked off her shoes as she turned around, then she froze.
     Alexander now stood in the doorway, and whether it was a trick of the light, or the apprehension she immediately felt, he seemed to take up all of the door space, and to block the light.  He wordlessly entered the room and closed the door behind him. 
*     *         *           *          *
Copyright 2009, Fiona McGier

Note: this series is only available at Amazon, and is on Kindle Unlimited.
books2read.com/u/47X5lq


What other sweaty scenes can you read next? Head over to the other blogs to see!