D. F. Krieger

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Coming In Hot Tour: Chanta Rand

Hello Readers,
We're continuing our hot trail of authors who are sharing their secrets and stories with us. Speaking of stories, there’s a box set releasing in September you all might be interested in. And of course I kidnapped—ahem—I mean coerced (okay, that probably doesn’t sound better) a fellow author in the set to tell us their secrets.
Hey CHANTA RAND tell us your secrets! Which one of you did I manage to trap this time, and what sexy succulence did you stick in Coming In Hot?

Y’know, a secret isn’t a secret once you tell someone, but I guess I can share with you guys. The sexy succulent I’m contributing is an erotic interracial novella called Love Down Under. It’s about a workaholic airline executive who goes to Australia and falls for an arrogant, hunky Australian doctor.

Was there anywhere naughty your characters did the thing? Was it based off anything you wanted to try? Or are you a sweet lil vanilla?
I’m definitely nasty. My husband and I made love on a ship on the Nile River, as well in the middle of the Caribbean Ocean, on a crowded beach in Honduras. Sometimes, I think my characters are living vicariously through me! In every one of my books, my characters do nasty stuff in the oddest places. I’m talking elevators, barns, bathrooms, helicopters, and construction trailers. I think it’s my obsession with seeing how much nastiness I can get away with before I get caught. In Love Down Under my hero and heroine actually do it in a bedroom—which is boring, compared to my other salacious venues. But immediately after, the hero’s extended family bursts through the bedroom door to find out who the hell is making all those loud noises. It turns out to be the both the heroine and hero, who’ve rocked each other’s worlds!

If you had unlimited access to blank you would do blank.
If I had unlimited access to MEDICATION I would give it to all the people suffering across the world who needed it. I think everyone should have access to live-saving medicine.

What is the weirdest experience that ever happened to you?
Oh, Lord. My life is full of weird encounters. Many of them NOT PG-rated. I once attended a play written by a male author. I didn’t really care for the guys’ work, but my best friend dragged me along. It was her birthday, so I indulged her. Afterward, I got a chance to meet the author. I told him how much I hated some of the elements in his work. After I was done ranting, he told me he liked my style and he asked me out to dinner! I declined. Now, he’s a best-selling author.

Tell us a secret about yourself. Shhhh, we promise not to share. Right, Readers?
Damn, y’all love secrets. Some of this stuff I’m taking to the grave with me, but I can share this one. Years ago I had a boyfriend. One morning, I called his home phone. This was back in the days before cell phones –yes, I’m old! Another woman answered the phone. She told me she was his girlfriend! Aw, hell no. We got to talking and I went to his house to meet her. She and I realized he’d been two-timing both of us! We trashed all of his stuff: clothes, apartment furniture, guitar, you name it, we destroyed it. Hey, I was young—ok, I was 30—so sue me. That cheater came home in the middle of our female wrecking crew. Needless to say, he was shocked and scared. I think she ended up taking him back and marrying him. I wrote a book, where I almost killed him off, but in the end, I let him live and be humiliated. Never piss an author off.

What is the most childish pastime indulgence you have?
Um, excuse you, collecting comic books and action figures is NOT childish. My indulgence started when I was a child and never stopped. I am a serious comic book collector. So serious I have my own comic book room at my house. See attached pics! I collect comics featuring kick-azz heroines, characters of color, and apocalyptic comics. I have about a thousand comics. I would have had more, but when I was twelve, we moved, and my mom threw out my comic collection to make room in the moving truck. Arghhh! I coulda been a contender! At any rate, my most valuable comic is The Walking Dead #1 (yes, I’m a zombie fan). It originally sold for $3.99 in 2003. Now, my copy is worth almost $1,000. Yeah, baby! Being a nerd pays.

Do you ever consider writing a different genre? Or do you have a pen name you’d be willing to share that writes a different genre?
As a matter of fact, I’m making a leap from erotica to Sci-fi action/adventure next year. My character is going to be like a female James Bond. Think Angelina Jolie’s Salt character, but set in the future, with a different love interest for each book. Her weapons are her sharp tongue, biting wit, superior intelligence, and of course, her catatonic laser gun. I’m so excited to be starting that series.  

Okay, Readers, I better return this author back to the wild before the authorities catch on. CHANTA, before you go, you have to pay the toll. Give the readers an excerpt! 

Nicola watched Dr. Connors’ movements as he worked. He should be named Dr. Grumpy. The man had the worst bedside manner she’d ever seen. No doubt due to his time spent tending to animals, instead of humans. His accent wasn’t as thick as McSeever’s, but the moment he opened his mouth, she knew he was an Aussie. Her eyes grazed over his long fingers as he wound up a ball of gauze. With his shirtsleeves rolled up, she could see the fine blonde hairs that dusted his golden, tanned skin. The muscles in his forearms flexed. His broad back stretched powerfully against his blue shirt. A loose pair of dungarees caressed the firm lines of his ass. Despite his gruff attitude, the doc was hot!
Her body responded to his maleness. Her nipples strained against her thin, white t-shirt. She quickly crossed her arms over her chest, but she moved too fast, jabbing her right hand with too much force. A sharp pain shot through her wrist, reminding her of the injury.
She bit her lip to keep from crying out. Instead, she channeled her pain into anger. “I can’t stay here,” she told him. “Not with all these…these dangerous animals.”
“Seems to me like you’re the dangerous one. You nearly got yourself and that koala killed.”
“How did you know about that?”
“McSeever told me. Plus I saw your chest. I know the mark of koala claws when I see ‘em.”
She didn’t want to think about him examining her chest. She wondered if he’d seen her see-through, lacy bra. “This makes no sense. I’m going to call a taxi. Or perhaps the hotel shuttle can come and get me.” His sardonic laugh only fueled her annoyance. She pulled her cell phone from her backpack and attempted to dial the number to her hotel. The No Service indicator flashed at the top of her screen.
“I demand you call a taxi for me right now. I will not stay here!”
He turned to face her. When he stalked toward her and stopped within one foot of her nose, her heart slammed against her ribcage. She stared into a pair of sinfully beautiful eyes. Were they aqua? Turquoise? She couldn’t pinpoint the color. She only knew they were doing a damned good job of melting her panties. The lashes that framed his eyes were full and lush, bordered by dark blonde eyebrows that reminded her of the wheat fields where she grew up in The Plains area of Texas. They had just the right amount of sculpt. Not too manscaped. Not too Grizzly Adams.
Her gaze followed the bridge of his long, aquiline nose to where it flared into broad nostrils. Pale stubble peppered his upper lip and chin. She’d always thought the five o’clock shadow was sexy, but this barely-there goatee was a turn-on, too. The only thing wrong was the set of full lips that dipped into a frown of disapproval.
“Woman, you’re mad as a cut snake.”
“I’m not familiar with that expression.”
He shook his head. “A crazy person.”
“I’m crazy for wanting to get back to my hotel?”
“You’re in the Outback. In the middle of nowhere. Off the grid. This is Far Northern Queensland, Australia. Over one hundred and seventy-six thousand square kilometers of land, carpeted with desert flowers and the occasional wallaby. There is no taxi coming out here. There is no hotel shuttle. We barely have running water. I just emptied the compost toilet this morning. I’ll show you how to do it if you like.”
She gasped. “You cannot be serious!”
A glint of challenge sparked in his eyes. “Oh, but I am.”

Any last words, before you are free to go? And if a reader wants to track you down themselves, where can they find you?
Last words. The only thing we have to fear is bad novels. With my work, you’ll always get snappy dialogue, humor, and steamy sex. If you want to find my work, I’m everywhere. I’m thinking of changing my name so I can get a break from myself. In the meantime, readers can find me here:

Amazon Author Page






Google Plus

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