Happy Wednesday! I usually put up the rant of the week today, but I wanted to introduce you instead to a really cool lady and debut author, Maya Reynolds. We first came to know each other when we served on the first board of officers of Passionate Ink, the erotic romance chapter of Romance Writers of America. After a lot of emails and working together, we discovered we live not too far from each other and have managed to chat face-to-face a few times. I’ve really been eager to get my hands on this debut title from Berkley HEAT, BAD GIRL.

Feeling a little naughty?

You should.

There’s only one thing hotter than doing something you shouldn’t.

Getting caught.

Shy social worker Sandy Davis gets caught spying on her neighbors having erotic encounters. She receives a phone call from an anonymous male calling himself Justice, who says, “You’ve been a bad girl, Alexandra Davis.” What will be Sandy’s “punishment” for being so naughty? Justice has some very hot ideas in mind.

Every since I read the proposal for this book months ago, I’ve been dying to see how these two come together. I have no doubt it’s hot, hot, hot.

Maya Reynolds lives in a small Texas town. She has worked as a teacher, stockbroker, psychiatric social worker, and crisis-team interventionist. She is the author of several short stories, and Bad Girl is her first novel. Maya also gave me an interview recently with some downright interesting answers…

1) Tell us about your latest release.

My first book, Bad Girl, was released earlier this month by NAL Heat. It’s an erotic suspense novel:

Sandy Davis didn’t start out intending to spy on her neighbors in the high-rise across the street. It began innocently. But then, she couldn’t bring herself to stop. Night after night, she hid in the shadows of her balcony and peeped through each different window, watching people going about their lives, never realizing they were being observed.

It was just a game. No one had to know. Then one night came a phone call…

“You’ve been a bad girl.”

He calls himself Justice. He has a pastime too. Watching Sandy watch others. He has the pictures to prove it. Now it’s his turn to play–by making Sandy pay the price in exchange for holding on to her naughty little secret.

As the sensual dance between two strangers begins, so does Sandy’s fear that she’s moving closer to the edge of extreme desire–and inescapable danger.

2) What was it about this book and these characters that made you want to write it?

I’m interested in non-traditional stories with quirky plotlines. I’d watched Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window, and it started me wondering how the story might be different if it was a woman doing the peeping.

Sandy’s boyfriend left her for her own sister. She’s feeling vulnerable, and haven’t we all been there at one time or another?

When that call from Justice first comes, all she wants is to find a way out. Then their phone calls turn into something else.

The structure of the story allowed me to really explore the relationship. Sandy spied on others; Justice spied on Sandy. The two of them are forced out of their comfort zones into something neither could have predicted.

3) Was it difficult to make Sandy a sympathetic character?

It was a worry for me. After all, she starts out doing something that is not only illegal, but immoral. I worked hard trying to help my readers understand her. It’s been very rewarding to receive emails saying how much readers like her. The book has a five-star rating on Barnes & Noble and a 4 ½ rating on Amazon right now.

4) What do you know now about publishing that you didn’t know before you published your first book?

How unbelievably long everything takes in print publishing. It was fourteen months from signing the contract to the book release.

5) Talk about your writing process. Are you a plotter or a pantser, and what is the advantage of your style?

Absolutely a pantser. I like “what if” questions. What if a woman got caught peeping on her neighbors? What if a hit man fell in love with the woman he was hired to kill (one of my current manuscripts)? Jumping right in allows me to explore the possibilities and to do so with all the immediate energy that the question offered.

The problem comes three chapters in when I don’t have an outline to guide me. That’s when being a gardener helps. I pull weeds and fertilize and talk through the plot points with my characters. I admire Chris Vogler’s The Writer’s Journey and consider it my roadmap in deciding on the plotting arc. When I first read his manual, I realized I’d been instinctively following his steps without ever having read the book before.

6) Did you do anything on the way to becoming published that you would change today?

I would have joined RWA sooner, and I would have sought critique partners earlier. Both are invaluable resources for a beginning writer.

You and the other published writers in our local chapter were enormously generous and helpful to me. I hope to pay it forward.

7) What are you working on now?

I like to work on a couple of stories at once so I can switch back and forth according to my mood. In addition to the hitman story, I’m exploring the older woman/younger man theme between a cop and her new partner.

8) How do you maintain balance between your writing life and the rest of your life?

Sometimes it can be tough. Right now I’m writing the new book while trying to publicize the last one. I work full-time, and am leaving Sunday for Bethesda where the National Institutes of Health are for four days as part of my job. Of course, I’ll bring a laptop along.

In addition to living my life, I maintain a daily blog at http://www.mayareynoldswriter.blogspot.com

It’s a challenge to fit everything in. Fortunately, I’m high energy, and my writing is important to me. It helps when you’re doing something you love.

Here’s an excerpt from BAD GIRL:

Sandy swiveled her telescope to scan the front of the building across the street.

Beyond her balcony, Uptown was coming alive for the night. If she leaned over, she could look down and see people drifting in and out of boutiques, eating at outdoor cafes or standing in line for tickets at the art house movie down the block.

Her sixth-floor condo, north of downtown Dallas, was in the shadow of the skyscrapers that dominated the north Texas sky.

Sandy focused on the apartments directly across from hers, checking to see if any of her regulars were home yet.

Yes, there were Mr. and Mrs. Kinky, the young couple on the fifth floor. They were in their kitchen preparing dinner. Knowing them, dinner would be part of the evening’s foreplay.

Her spying on neighbors had begun accidentally a few months earlier but, during that time, she’d become attached to many of the people who lived across the street. In a curious sort of way, she felt like their guardian, keeping an eye on them. She’d even intervened once by calling the police when she’d thought someone was in danger. Of course, she’d called in the report from a pay phone down the street.

More tenants returned home and switched on their lamps. The flat face of the building across the street resembled a checkerboard with alternating squares of light and dark. She slowly rotated the body of the telescope, trying to find activity. Mrs. Blue Hair, the elderly woman on the fourth floor had been sick lately. Sandy was glad to see she was feeling well enough to host her Friday night bridge group.

The ringing of her telephone distracted Sandy from the scene across the street. For the space of another ring, she debated whether to answer it. If it were her mother, a non-response would start a cycle of calls every twenty minutes until Sandy picked up. Better get it over with now.

She rushed toward the living room, brushing past the closed drapes, and picked up the phone on the fourth ring–right before the answering machine kicked in.

“Hello,” she said breathlessly.

“You’ve been a bad girl, Alexandra Davis,” a male voice greeted her.

“Who’s this?” she demanded. It had to be one of her brothers or a friend.

“This is Justice.” He paused, and Sandy tried to decide if the caller was her older brother, Matt.

“You’ve been spying on your neighbors. How do you think they’d feel if they knew?”

Sandy’s heart stuttered. No! This couldn’t be happening. No one could have seen her. She’d been too careful.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied in her coldest voice. “I’m going to hang up. If you call me again, I’ll report you to the police.” She slammed the receiver down.

OhgodOhgodOhgod! She bit her lip and stared at the phone. What if someone had seen her? Maybe someone knew. Reality came crashing down. If this came out, she could be arrested. She’d lose her job. No agency could have a sex offender employed as a social worker, going into homes with families. And her mother! Oh, dear heaven, what would her mother say?

Sandy forced her mind to function through the mounting panic. First, she needed to get the telescope off the balcony. She needed to sit down and think this through . . .

The phone started to ring again. Sandy stared at it like a field mouse cowering before a snake. She made no move to pick it up. It rang a second . . . a third . . . and, finally . . . a fourth time.

The answering machine kicked in, and Sandy heard the male voice from before. “It’s no good, Alexandra. You can’t hide from Justice. If you don’t believe me, go check outside your door. I’ll wait.”