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Hello everyone! I'm thrilled to be here at Romance with SASS. Today is a red-letter day for me, as my first novel is being released as we speak…er, type. J  It's called Murdering Eve and it's filled with suspense, magic, and steamy romance. Thank you, Margie, for letting me come talk to your readers!

What's been your biggest joy as a writer?

My biggest joy has been writing that last line of a manuscript. Even when you know you've got tons of work ahead with editing, submitting, and the publishing process, it's such a wonderful feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction to "finish" a book. And, of course, there's the incomparable feeling of BOOK RELEASE DAY!  You'll have to excuse me, I'm rather giddy at the moment.

Biggest challenge?

Aside from the business side of being an author, which really doesn't address the question, the answer is quite boring. My biggest challenge is time. I aspire to be a full time writer, but I'm not - yet. I still do what many authors do, hold a full time job and write whenever I can. Because I've got a four year-old daughter and another baby on the way, a husband, friends, and all the distractions of a wonderfully full and busy life, some days it feels like I've fought in a Battle Royale just to write a few lines. That said, I'm very grateful for my supportive family, and thankfully – they love pizza. It's a good thing, because they eat it a LOT!

Are you a plotter or a pantser and why?

I begin with an outline, but if I'm honest I'd have to say I'm a pantser all the way. When I start a book I have a thorough understanding of my characters, their motivations, and ultimately what's going to happen, but how they get there is a wondrous journey we take together. One of the best parts of writing a book is when your character grabs you by the throat and says, "Kelly, here's what I'm going to do today. Just sit back and take notes." You never know when that's going to happen, and you pray you've got lots of time allocated for writing, because baby – that muse can be a whip-wielding slave driver when she wants to be!

Do you belong to any writer's groups or organizations and if so, how do they benefit you?

I belong to both the RWA and my local chapter, the Dallas Area Romance Authors. I wish I'd joined both a lot earlier than I actually did. As a first time author, I had the impression I wouldn't be considered "serious" until I'd finished my first manuscript. Boy, I was wrong! When I started out, I felt so isolated and that was really unnecessary. If you're an aspiring writer, getting the support of a local writing group or critique buddies is critical.

Do you have to get in the mood to write a love scene?

Being in the mood isn't as important as making sure you have adequate time allocated to really get into the scene. Funny enough, if I'm not IN the mood when I start, I certainly am by the time I'm finished!

Do you use your personal sex life as fodder for your books?

Doesn't everyone? J I think all writers draw upon real life experiences to some degree, but I really let loose and let my imagination run wild when I write love scenes. I've not had first-hand experiences of everything my characters do, but that's the beauty of fiction. Even if I haven't been held aloft against a wall with my thighs resting on the wide shoulders of my partner…I've certainly thought about it!

Margie, I'd be delighted to share a blurb and excerpt of my new release – Murdering Eve. The story won the 2011 Reader's Favorite award in the Romance / Fantasy-Sci Fi category, and I'm so grateful to everyone who has shown support. The whole experience has been such a whirlwind!

Blurb:

Eve Moore is very likely going insane. In one week’s time, she has clear memories of surviving a murderous attack by her dead husband’s mistress, teleporting to another Realm, learning her best friend isn’t human, and uncovering the existence of trolls, titans and mythical Gods. If she hadn’t gone off her nut, Eve wouldn’t be coming to grips with the fact that her mother had an affair with an immortal and she is apparently their love-child.

But since she’s getting pretty comfortable with it all, she figures she's probably strapped down somewhere cold and antiseptic with drool dribbling down her chin. Except if she’s locked in sanitarium, as she must be, why is she so damn scared of the God of War that threatened to send her soul to the Underworld? And why does the mere glance from a gorgeous man, one that she was tasked to find and return to Olympus, set fire racing through her veins?

Whether it’s reality or lunacy, Eve has no idea, but she is on one hell of a ride. If only she could get that red-headed harlot who tried to kill her the first time to cease and desist on the murder attempts, she could enjoy her psychosis in peace…

 Excerpt:

Whit grunted as he shifted his weight and stood up. He walked to the fire to stoke it with what little dry wood he had left. Eve looked at him longingly, his back turned to her. Her gaze trailed down the length of wavy brown hair, and she admired the broadness of his strong back, tapering to a narrow waist. She paused briefly, resting her stare on his ass, then traveled lower, to thighs as thick as tree trunks. She remembered their kiss in the clearing, and her body went from bone-cold to pulsing with heat. He had said he could hold her up with one hand while he ravished her for hours. Was he merely making a point, or had he actually meant it?

A fantasy took shape in her mind as she visualized him balanced on those muscular legs, thighs spread slightly, bearing the weight of not only his body, but hers as well, as he pressed her back into the bark of the tree he'd been sitting beneath. She itched to press her fingertips into his skin, to cling to those enormous shoulders. Her tongue slid across the swell of her lips, thinking about licking the sweat from his neck. She rubbed a hand restlessly on the top of her thigh as she envisioned him nudging her legs farther apart, opening her body, and gently pushing into her center. Heat pooled low in her belly at the image in her mind's eye.

Whit turned halfway and stopped, showing her only a carefully masked profile.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing," she said. But instead of sounding nonchalant, the word came out gravelly and deep. Butterflies took flight in her stomach at the dead giveaway.

"Trust me, you're doing something. I went from freezing my ass off to sweating in ten seconds flat. Your power is searing me."

She dropped her gaze and the temperature abated, but only slightly. She couldn't control her stream of consciousness, still firmly focused on Whit's body and what she wanted to do to it. She wanted him to come to her. Badly. She cleared her throat to get her voice under control.

"You must be cold out there, that's all. I was sending you warm thoughts. I guess it worked."

"That's all you were thinking?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I want to know because I can't stand any more uncertainty between us." He swiveled around and glowered at her. "You either want me, or you don't. If you don't, you need to shut down whatever it is you're doing, because I've lost all ability to be stoic."

Hope swirled in her chest. "You've been stoic?"

Whit snorted. "Hell yes, I've been stoic. Since the first moment I saw you in the forest, I've had to fight off my body's response to you. You need to know that I don't have much fight left."

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but turned his face away abruptly.

She opened her mouth with a get-your-ass-over-here-and-kiss-me on the tip of her tongue when he looked back at her. His expression of profound longing rendered her speechless as she swallowed over a lump forming in her throat.

"Come here." She sat up and stretched out her arms, welcoming him.

He hesitated, as he looked at her with an unspoken question in his eyes.

"Please, Whit, come here."

Thunder clapped suddenly, so loud that Eve involuntarily scrunched her eyelids. When she opened her eyes, her heart pounding, Whit was already there, dropped down in a crouch with his hands on the ground on either side of her hips.

His lips hovered mere inches from hers. "Are you sure? Don't invite me in if you're going to change your mind. I . . . I don't think I can handle that from you. Not now. Not anymore."

Eve didn't dignify his comment with a response. She shot her hands into his hair and wound the strands luxuriously around her fingers, then tugged him forward, closing the distance between them. Their lips pressed together gently once, twice, and then she felt him pull back. She tugged a little harder, but he was immovable, his self-control ever-present, even though he'd claimed to have none left.

She snaked her tongue over to his, coaxing, and she felt a tremor of anticipation when his breath sucked in sharply at the delicate mingling. In a moment of suspended animation, Eve held her breath, as frozen in place as Whit was. She stared into his eyes, and saw the first crack of his resolve, like fissures erupting in a dam right before an explosion of water breaks through. Arching her back so her breasts brushed against his chest, she closed her lips on his tongue and gently sucked, eliciting a roar from deep in his throat that set fire racing through her veins.

The next few seconds were a blur. One minute he was poised over her, his body taut and coiled like a snake ready to strike; the next he was on top of her, flattening her back into the bed of leaves that comprised the floor of her shelter. He supported most of his massive weight by his arms, but there was so much of him. The heaviness of his muscular upper body wasn't smothering, it was comforting, and she wanted more. The harder he pressed into her, the harder she wanted it, thinking a hairsbreadth of empty space between their bodies was too much.

Eve craved his bare skin against hers, but she couldn't tear her fingers out of his hair to rip away the offensive clothing. Even if she could, her brain had shut down all cognitive thought. She knew he only had two hands, and that one of them gently cupped the back of her head protectively, and the other grasped her waist. But like the night before, standing in the cabin, she felt his hands everywhere at once. Fingers of air dragged up the back of her legs, and the flat palm of an invisible hand against her belly moved lower, throwing Eve's mind into a frenzy of lust.

 Want more?

Murdering Eve is available starting today at NobleRomance.com,  and coming soon to Amazon.com.

Visit www.kellyleefiction.com, and check out the contest to win yourself a copy. Send her an email, "like' her on Facebook, or becoming a follower of her blog by November 15th, and you'll be registered to win!