She beamed me a breathtaking smile, equal parts adorably cute and wickedly evil. Lethal combination. “I love it when you beg.”
I had every intention of engaging in our usual quick draw banter. However, it simply wasn’t going to happen. Not anytime soon anyway. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. Twice. It wouldn’t budge. Shit, I couldn’t even see straight anymore.
“Don’t you dare get emotional, jerk. You’ll make me cry.”
“Don’t you dare cry, woman,” I growled back. “You’ll make me lose my mind.”
Another Saturday, another great spotlight interview! We have the lovely A Shiloh with us today. She also goes by Ally. Let’s find out more…
Your debut novel, Writer’s Block: An Unexpected Love Story has such a great title. Did you ever experience any writer’s block while writing it? Is there a specific significance with the title and the story?
Yes, I did experience writer’s block while writing this book. For a few days, I stopped completely, not knowing what to do next. I finally started to tell my fiance about the story line and where I was stuck. He simply gave me an idea without much thought and bam, I went with it! I was on a roll after that. The significance of the title is because the main female character, Stacey, is a romance author and her writing keeps coming to a halt because of unexpected, and some unfortunate, events happening in her life. I thought it’d be fun to add the meaning of writer’s block to her own life in itself.
Is Writer’s Block a standalone novel, or will there be a book two? Where did the story idea come from?
As of right now, Writer’s Block is just a single novel, but if readers respond well to it and want it to continue, I’ll definitely take it into consideration. As for the idea of the story — I thought it’d be interesting to have the female lead be in a similar situation to me — wanting to keep her identity a secret by using a pseudonym, in order to keep her life as normal as possible. My own reasoning is slightly different, but the concept is similar. As for some of the obstacles within the story, I’ve worked in a few agencies that dealt with victims of crimes, so I used my experience with that to portray the situations in the novel as accurate as possible. As for the other aspects of it, I just really let my mind wonder and remained open-minded whenever any ideas would hit me. I’d literally take out a notebook and jot down any ideas that suddenly came to mind.
Erin Lee Daniels is an editor and romance author. After receiving a degree in Political Science and International Relations Erin Lee worked in the private sector before pursuing her lifelong dream of authorship. She lives in NYC and enjoys travel, cooking, collecting fine china, keeping a handle on her American Girl addiction and spending time with family and good friends.
Truth be told, however, Marc was anxious himself to head back to his suite and unwind. It had been a long day, and he wanted to turn the situation about Marlee over in his mind. So, was it a situation now?
This is not a situation, he thought. You simply met a charming young woman who happens to be working for you on a project. And who happens to be absolutely stunning. Okay, and she also happens to think you’re probably some dentist on a ski vacation from Boulder. Damnit.
Marc had undressed and crawled into bed, waiting for sleep to overtake him. But thoughts of a certain design assistant in ballet flats crowded his thoughts and made his night a fitful one. No matter how he tried, he found it impossible to fall asleep until well past midnight.
She was intriguing. It hardly mattered that their conversation had mostly revolved around a pair of doors. An image of her smiling came unbidden to him, and he ran a hand over his face, exhaling deeply. He sat up in bed and reached for the bedside phone to order his breakfast.
Breakfast. His hand froze midway to the phone. Would Marlee consider having breakfast with him?Idiot. He let his hand drop. She didn’t even know his name. He slid down until he was lying flat against the pillows and tugged the duvet until it covered his head.
Idiot.Thoughts of her pulled him under. There was something about the way she looked at him, with a certain expectancy. It was unnerving and endearing at the same time. Or maybe it was just his conscience. Maybe she looked trusting and sweet-natured because he was aware of his own deceit. That’s it. Marc rubbed his hand over his stomach. I’m projecting.