My latest book is Delaney’s Sunrise. Dee is engaged to Jacob, but is in love with his brother, Abe. After a tragic accident and Jacob dies, Dee flees from the family farm. Years later she comes back and the old passion reignites. Can love over power guilt from the past? Can Dee and Abe forgive each other for the deep pain?
- Which main character is your favorite? Why?
Abe’s character is my fave. He’s a bad-ass yet gentle man.
- How did the hero in your first novel come to you?
I was sitting in the parking lot at Walmart waiting. I thought came to me and I pulled out a paper napkin and began the first words of Double Dare.
I write for the same reason I breathe. It keeps me alive.
- Are you a plotter or a panster?
I am a panster. Even if I sat and planned each character, each chapter, the storyline out…I wouldn’t follow it. From the first word, I never know what path the story will take. My characters come alive and they build their own story.
- Where do your ideas come from?
I always have storylines bouncing around in my head. However, on occasion, one is stronger than another. The only choice I have is to sit and write a story. If I’m lucky the story won’t bomb after a few pages or chapters. Sometimes that happens. I’ll begin a story and it just sorta fizzles. Then I start over again with another story.
- Describe your writing space.
Anywhere and everywhere…My laptop is like a lifeline.
- Marketing wise, what has worked the best?
- How did you meet your mate — we love a romance.
I believe in soul mates. Or rather, I believe what I preach (write). I haven’t found mine yet—but he’s out there somewhere.
- What do you love about your hometown — we love to travel.
I live in a small town. People wave as you walk or drive by. The doors can be left unlocked.
- What’s your favorite southern food?
Key Lime Pie. That is southern…right?
- What’s next in your writing life?
I have a paranormal romance releasing in September. I am finishing up a short erotica that I’m enjoying immensely.
Suffering from years of hopeless romantic notions and sexy, sassy heroines and bad-ass heroes taking up residence in her mind, Rhonda Carver decided to write and bring the stories to life. With baby on hip and laptop on the other–and two years later–Rhonda has published five eBooks with a handful of spicy love stories waiting for the final touches.
When Rhonda isn’t crafting edge-of-your-seat, sizzling-ink novels, you will find her with her children, watching soccer, watching a breathtaking movie, doing (or trying) yoga, and finding new ways to keep her smile bright.
Rhonda thrives on making her readers happy. She believes everyone deserves romance–one page at a time… website http://www.rhondaleecarver.com/
Deedidn’t look at him. He couldn’t look at her, either. He’d lived with the weight of shame, embarrassment and pain for years. He’d done a good job molding those emotions into something more useful, more productive: anger. The latter was far better than sorrow. Abe had convinced himself of her faults long ago. He wouldn’t allow her to unravel him again.
“You’re not welcome here,Dee.”
She set her bottle on the floor. It fell onto its side. Beer spilled out in a foamy puddle; both ignored it.
Tension enveloped him. What would she say?
“Let’s get past that, Abe. The reality is, Jacob wanted me here. I don’t know why he did, but I trusted him.”
He smirked. “You don’t belong here. Did you change your clothes to prove a point to yourself, or just to impress me?”
One thin brow curved in challenge. “It’d make you happy to think I was trying to impress you.”
“No.” He wrinkled his nose. “No, it wouldn’t.” He dropped his feet to the floor with a thud.
“Oh, forgive me.” Her tone teetered on mockery. “You’re into engaged women, right? I’m only a single girl now.”
Her bitter words hit home, striking as hard as a blow to the gut. He rose so quickly she stumbled back. He stalked toward her. Agitated, the horses kicked at the doors of their stalls as if they shared his tension.
Her lips trembled. “Did I touch a sensitive chord?”
Chord? Hell, she’d unleashed a flood. He caught her wrist in a solid grip. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he dragged her close and bent low to her ear. “You wanna stay?” His voice was dangerously low. “Stay. But don’t cross my path, or I’ll throw your ass off my farm quicker than you can throw Jacob’s name in my face again. Ownership rights or no ownership rights, that’s my word. Got it?”
She tilted her head back and looked up at him. Her face was devoid of emotion, but the damp mist in her eyes made her a liar. “Got it,” she whispered.
He dropped her wrist and pivoted on his heel, heading for the exit.
Her shaky voice stopped him. “I know you, Abe, probably better than Jacob did. If I didn’t already realize you’re a kind man, I’d run as far away from you as I could. You’re angry and you’re feeling guilty. I know, because I feel the same. I’ve dealt with those same emotions since Jacob died. You may hate me and I don’t know if I still…if I like you much either, but we share one thing. We both lost someone we loved.”
He kept his back to her, but as the last word left her lips he nearly fled outside. Sucking in fresh air, he shoved his hands into his pockets. Damn it. Damn her.