Guest Blogger — Jennifer La Rose

Riding the WavesI’d like to welcome romance author Jennifer LaRose to the purple velvet couch today.

Hi, Everyone! Moni, thank you for having me. I’m so thrilled to be here.

Jennifer, I know you write romance under two different names. Tell us your other pen name and what the difference is between the two pen names.

Actually, I write romantic suspense under my real name Jennifer Schmidlin, and utilize the pen name Jennifer LaRose for my erotic novels.

I enjoyed reading Riding the Waves. Tell us a little about your book.

It’s basically about a woman scorned by her fiancé. An alpha male, who’s a prior coworker, reenters her life during the traumatic break-up and takes her beyond her sexual boundaries. While they’re becoming reacquainted and falling in love, a sadistic pirate lingers in the background making unknown plans for their future.

Are you working on another book(s)?

Yes, as a matter of fact, I just contracted a paranormal erotic romance through Ellora’s Cave. I’m also in the planning stage of writing a sequel to Riding the Waves, using the hero’s twin as the protagonist. Plus, I’m working on a mainstream fiction novel which touches on child abuse. It’s a serious subject that rips my heart to pieces, but I feel compelled to write this story.

Do you work on one project at a time or multiples?

I wish I could start and finish one project at a time, but unfortunately, that doesn’t happen. There’s always persistent characters popping into my head, and they won’t leave me alone until I start writing their story. I think a majority of authors suffer the same problem.

What draws you to write your genre and sub-genre?

Gosh, that’s a hard question. I’m not sure. I loved to write when growing up, and I also loved reading romance books. I think they finally meshed. Now I can look at something as simple as a bath towel, and an idea starts to manifest. I can’t keep my nose off the ID channel, which is why I’m probably intrigued to add a bad guy and suspense.

Riding the Waves contains scenes of BDSM. How do you research the lifestyle – or is that one of those off-the-record type questions?

Well, eh-hem, I find it intriguing, but I haven’t indulged personally. I touched on it in Riding the Waves only briefly because I really don’t know much about it. Honestly, I did minimal research by reading a few on-line articles and browsed pictures of some gadgets, but I’m a scaredy-cat to actually watch videos or visit any websites to gobble knowledge on the subject. I wanted Brent the hero, to be a dominating lover not a Master Dom per se.

Do you find love scenes difficult to write?

Sometimes it’s torturous and takes me a full day or two to get it right. It’d be so easy if I didn’t have to involve the emotional aspect.

Do you have any tips for new writers?

Yes I do. “Future Authors, regardless of how long it takes to accomplish, never, ever give up your dreams of writing.”

What do you do to get in the mood to write?

I’m always in the mood to write, but it hits me the hardest in the morning while driving to my day job. Tons of ideas pour into my overloaded brain during the jaunt to the office. It just figures!

What is your guilty pleasure?

Reading erotic books.

What are you reading now?

I just finished reading Prescribing Pleasure by Kathleen Lash.

Quick Questions:

Alpha-male or beta-male heroes?

Alpha males.

Vanilla sex or kinky sex?

Kinky sex.
Strawberries and whipped cream or chocolate?

Strawberries and whipped cream.

Would your ideal man wear boxers or briefs – or go commando?

I love tight briefs, but the commando thing…very nice.

Your ideal vacation, you and your significant other at a remote beach or snowed in at a mountain lodge?

Snowed in a cozy mountain lodge with a romantic fire burning.

Where can your readers reach you?


On FaceBook: jennifer’gall’schmidlin

Or they can visit me anytime on my blog:

Would you like to share a small excerpt from Riding the Waves with our visitors?

Yes, I’d love to. Thanks for offering.

Annalee Parschen is devastated when she discovers her soon-to-be ex-fiancé has been having a secret BDSM tryst with her best friend. Crushed, she wonders how anyone could find a sexual thrill in punishment or submission. Then she’s reunited with Brent Delaney, a former coworker who still ignites her flame. Though they’ve never had sex, she’s taken him home in her fantasies countless times. Turns out he’s been wanting to take her home, too. And he has a thing or two to teach her about finding pleasure in submission.

Brent is now a private sea fighter who guards his employer’s ships from piracy in the China Sea. He returns to the States after a daring ocean rescue. He’s thrilled to be reunited with Annalee, even more so when he gets to introduce her to his dominant side. Unfortunately the murderous pirate he put behind bars has escaped, and he’s seeking revenge—against Brent, and anyone he loves.

“Hello, baby,” a male replied.

Holy cow, his deep, rugged undertone was sexy. “Sorry, you have the wrong number.”

“This is my baby. I’m sure of it.”

Oh wow! No way! Only one man in her entire life called her baby, and it downright stimulated her ears.

“Brent?” She smiled as a face emerged to correspond with the voice. A gorgeous, chiseled, clean-cut face, accompanied by piercing charcoal eyes. A rush of heat exploded in her cheeks. “Oh my God, Brent Delaney?” Warmth spread through her body, settling between her thighs. No other man’s voice had the ability to turn her on like Brent’s. Wow, four years of absence hadn’t changed a thing. “How’d you find my number?” Why hadn’t you found it sooner?

“I’ve got connections at the office.”

“How are you?” she squealed.

“I’m great. How are you?”

“Doing well.” Damn, the rumble in his tone sent shivers down her spine.

“Are you ready to move back to Ohio? I hear big changes are coming. Mr. Whiltby said we’re opening another office near Dayton.” Please say yes. No. Say no. I’m an engaged woman now and could never live with the guilt of inviting you back into my fantasies.

“Yeah, well, I don’t think I’m quite ready for that.” He chuckled. “Talk to me. Tell me what you’ve been doing with yourself. Are you married? Kids? I want to hear it all.”

“Listen, I would love to chat, but I’m in a bit of a hurry right now. Can you call me back tomorrow?”

“You got it.” The phone fell silent. “I’ve been thinking about you lately.”

The declaration flowed through her veins like melted chocolate. Was it wrong to feel flattered? If Jared paid more attention to her, would hearing from Brent have affected her differently? “We’ll talk tomorrow. Good night, Brent.”

Brent Delaney? She hadn’t spoken to him in years. Not since Whiltby & Sons transferred him to Seattle. Right before, she’d realized her feelings for him had grown deeper than lust. She’d suffered two or three months of heartache after he’d left. The part that hurt the most—when he’d started dating a feisty redhead just weeks prior to his departure. But what did Annalee expect? She was just a plain coworker smitten by his sexy, good looks.

That didn’t stop her wild sexual fantasies from kicking into overdrive whenever Brent was near though. Illicit cream-in-your-panty fantasies. On the days they calibrated work assignments he innocently flirted, stood too close or laid a hand on her lower back, but he never carried it further. That’s not saying she hadn’t wanted him to. If her confidence hadn’t been lacking, she would’ve put the moves on him. It had grown immensely hard to avoid sliding her fingers over the front of his pants.

Shame on her for thinking such things when he’d had a girlfriend, but he lit up Annalee’s insides like the Fourth of July. She wore black pants on those close capacity days to hide the inevitable wet spot. Sure as hell, she’d have one.

After spending time with him, she’d go home alone to spend time with the massaging showerhead or dildo to ease the overwhelming arousal. She’d close her eyes, imagining Brent doing all sorts of things to her during those solo sessions. Hot, nasty things. And his scent…what an intoxicating mixture of woodsy, exotic spices.

He’d taken her virginity and hadn’t even known it. It was his image pounding into her when she’d shoved the rubber cock inside her vagina and popped her own cherry. They say you never forget your first, and God, she hadn’t.

Thanks for being here today and answering my nosy questions.

You’re very welcome. Thank you for having me.

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