Tell the readers a little about yourself.
Add one part femme fatal to one part astrophysicist, then toss in a generous helping of snark and you’ll get Avery Flynn. She’s the coolest girl I know and she lives only in my head.
As you may have guessed, Avery is my alter ego. I find that writing under a pseudonym really opens up the creative process. The real me lives outside of Washington D.C. with my dashing husband, three crazy kids and two arthritic dogs. I dream of one day having the floor-to-ceiling library seen in Disney's Beauty and the Beast and have vowed to perfect the coffee IV drip. But enough about me. How about some Avery?
Favorite Color: Hot Pink
Favorite Drink: Single malt scotch on the rocks
Favorite Dance: Argentinian Tango
Favorite Vacation Spot: Iceland’s Ice Hotel
Favorite Position: With The Right Partner? All Of Them
As an author, do you take time to read? If so, what do you like to read and who is/are your favorite author/s?
I can’t imagine a life without reading. That would be hell. I read all the time. Right now I’m reading an erotic romantic suspense called Make Me Sweat from fellow Evernight Publishing author Avril Ashton. It’s awesome and is pretty typical for me as far as reading type - I love reading about strong women going head to head against an alpha male. Num. Num. That comes in many varieties from romance to biography. Cleopatra by Stacy Shiff was an amazing read.
If you could go anywhere in the world on a romantic getaway, what would you do and where would you go?
I totally know the answer to this - Tahiti. I’d stay in one of the luxury huts (what, you thought I’d forgo a bathroom on a romantic getaway?) that stands above the crystal blue water. It would have a window in the floor to watch the fish and a giant fluffy bed to … enjoy when the hubby and I aren’t watching the fish.
If you could live the life of one of your characters who would you be?
Great question! I don’t want to live Claire’s life from Up a Dry Creek (psycho killers are so not my thing), but I’d trade a day or two to live the life of a restaurant owner. I really like Claire a lot. She’s funny, feisty and would be a blast to sit down with and enjoy a beer (or four).
The tag line on my blog is ‘Indulge Your Inner Romantic.’ What do you do to indulge?
Hot yoga. It’s ninety minutes in 105 degrees and I love it! I know it doesn’t sound like an indulgence, but let me explain. For an hour and a half, no one can ask me for anything; the phone doesn’t ring; and I’m not doing laundry or the dishes. All I can do is breath and work my ass off. Also, hot yoga has taught me a lot about what my body can do, how it can bend and how there’s not a damn thing I can’t do - well, at least for thirty seconds.
Thanks again for having me!
Up a Dry Creek Blurb and Excerpt
Claire Layton is a successful, though somewhat debt-ridden, restaurateur who minds her own business—literally. She has enough on her plate between an irascible chef, an abandoned sous-chef, and the pressure of running her highly praised eatery, Harvest. But when she discovers one of her customers dead in her dumpster, her world begins to unravel.
Even as her county sheriff brother Hank and his team continue to swarm the property looking for evidence, she receives a threatening call. It seems there’s a slight problem involving the dead young woman in the dumpster. She doesn’t have her phone and her flash drive with her. The killer makes it clear that Claire better find them by noon the next day or he’ll go after her and her entire family.
With the clock ticking, Claire searches for the missing items to no avail. Complicating matters is the arrival of Jake Warrick, a hotshot security expert hired by the dead woman’s father to find her killer. Claire’s trying her best to get Jake out of her restaurant when her jeep goes up in flames. The noon deadline has passed.
Determined to find the killer and to keep her family safe, Claire refuses to back down, even as the murderer continues to terrorize her. Jake isn’t backing down either, and the tension between the two—sexual and otherwise—continues to mount. Jake has no intention of leaving Claire in danger—or before he gets to know her much, much better.
Clues, most leading nowhere, pile up, and the threads of the mystery are becoming still more complicated, even as the killer comes closer and closer to claiming his prize—and his prey.
Desperate to put something in her mouth before she said something stupid, Claire reached for another slice of pizza but hesitated. Her hand hovered over the only piece left.
“We can arm wrestle for the last slice.” Jake’s voice warmed her skin as if he’d touched her.
Claire took in his thick biceps. Without thinking, she reached out toward him, but squashed the impulse. Memories of Brett had her on guard again. Jake was the definition of eye candy; pretty to look at, bad for her heart. Her hand switched course. She grabbed her beer and took a swig.
A mouthful of the dark liquid went down the wrong pipe. Coughing, she gasped for breath. Jake patted her back until she regained her normal breathing ability.
But his hand didn’t move. It stayed between her shoulder blades, fingers spread wide. Sparks shot outward from his palm through her body.
Her breath slowed. Awareness prickled her skin. She yearned for his touch. Everywhere. Her lips parted. Slowly, she turned around. His hand left a trail of fire as it slid down and around her body until it landed on the curve of her hip.
He brought up his other hand to brush a stray hair from her face. His slate blue eyes drew her in to his sexual orbit.
“You have some sauce right here.” His voice’s deep timbre sent an unmistakable signal to which her body responded. Her breasts became full and heavy. Her clit demanded attention.
He wiped the spot by the corner of her mouth with his thumb, then tracked the red liquid across her bottom lip. His head dipped lower. Hers moved up. When their lips met, thoughts of Brett and the Voice of Doom disappeared.
His firm tongue stroked her lips and begged to be let in. She opened and his tongue swept in. She wrapped her tongue around his, dared him to taste his fill. The hand on her hip tightened, and pulled her closer to his hard body. In return, her fingers found their way to the bottom of his T-shirt and started an upward exploration. His coarse chest hair tickled her palm, so alien and enticing at the same time.
His lips left hers and traced down her neck. He arrived at that sweet spot where her throat met her shoulder. Her spine dissolved as he sucked and nibbled.
“You taste so good.” His breath hot against her skin.
The feel of his hands cupping her ass made it impossible to respond verbally other than to moan her appreciation. Her body slid up against his as he lifted her to sit on the kitchen counter. He yanked her closer. The hard bulge in his jeans rubbed against her in the perfect spot.
Every part of her, relaxed only a few minutes before, hummed with tension. Her nipples stiffened into tight nubs. She squeezed her legs around Jake’s waist, her wet core snug against him. She clutched at his shirt, desperate to touch his skin. She needed him closer. Her body demanded it. The endorphins wrapped around her brain gave the go ahead.
She hiked up his shirt and ran her hands up his strong back, felt the tension within him. He tugged her scoop necked T-shirt lower and his lips descended to the top of her cleavage. He licked and kissed above her teal bra.
Claire’s butt started to vibrate.
Not Jake making my ass vibrate.
It was her phone stuffed into her back pocket. She had to stop to answer. Her body screamed no.
“Phone,” Claire panted. She pushed against Jake’s shoulders. “Have… to… answer… my… phone.”
He groaned into her breasts, put his hands on the counter on either side of her hips and lifted his head. The dark look in his eyes showed he hated this interruption as much as she did.
She got lost for a moment in those slate blue eyes. She wanted him. Now. Here on the counter next to the almost empty pizza box. The vibration stopped, but began again a second later. Jake swung her down so she stood again on the kitchen’s taupe tile.
“You’d better answer that.” He backed away, his desire palpable.
Claire reached into her back pocket, warm from Jake’s touch, and pulled out the scarlet phone.
“Hello?” Her voice sounded breathy to her own ears.
“You know, I don’t like to work this hard for the things I want. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
Panic exploded in her stomach at the first syllable from the Voice of Doom. Claire looked up at Jake, who cocked his head in question.
“I understand. You want the phone and flash drive, but I don’t have them. I looked everywhere.”
Jake stepped closer. He leaned his head toward the phone. She angled it outward so he could listen.
“Your lack of results have, well… Sweetheart, I’m not the kind of guy you want angry.” His voice pitched lower. “Lucky for me, I’m not angry. I. Am. Furious.”
Claire’s temper snapped. Again. This nutcase killed Kendall. He threatened her and her family. He trashed her house. And he had the gall to go all drama king on her for something she didn’t have and couldn’t find? She’d had enough.
“Welcome to the club asshole, because I’m not too happy myself after the job you did on my house.”
“Just wait, Kitten, you haven’t seen anything yet.” He hung up on her. Again.
In Up a Dry Creek, Avery Flynn brings readers a strong and sexy romantic suspense novel, with plenty of action, engaging characters and a shocking ending.
Up a Dry Creek: An e-book available at Amazon, Evernight Publishing, iBooks, 1 Place for Romance, All Romance and many other online retailers.
Also available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, 1 Place for Romance, All Romance Cafe and many other online book sellers.
You can find Avery at these places. Make sure to stop by and say hi.