Posts Tagged ‘Qwillia Rain’

13 Days of Halloween: Qwillia Rain

The Hot Seat with Qwillia Rain, Becka and Rick

13 Days of Halloween Edition


I set up The Hot Seat to accommodate three people and put out lemon cakes and mini pumpkin pies and some spiced apple cider. Once I’m ready, I signal the Cabana Men dressed in leather to escort my guests in. Once they’re settled in, I begin the interview.

Qwillia settles onto one of the chairs, her legs curled under her while Rick takes a throw pillow from the sofa and sets it on the floor, helping Becka onto it before taking a seat on the sofa behind her, his legs on either side of Becka as she relaxed back against him.


1) Thank you all for allowing me to interview you. I take it you guys are looking forward to Halloween, what with it being Rick’s birthday and all.

Qwillia: Halloween has always been my favorite holiday because I love dressing up and trick or treating.

Rick stayed quiet, but Becka spoke up: We’re having a small party at our house for the kids. Mattie and Bryce and Mike and Lyssa are bringing all their kids. Jacob promised to stop in for a bit and Dayton and Elf may show up with Noelle. Dante flies in on Saturday to spend the week before he heads back to Mexico and the Dulce Oro.


2) A little birdie told me about  Diablo Blanco Club’s Midnight Masquerade. What happens there, or is it a secret? What’s the best part of the party? What’s the worst?

Qwillia: Readers can get a glimpse of the party in Rite of First Claim, but I’m hoping to revamp a deleted scene and make it into a short story so readers can see some of the more interesting aspects of the Midnight Masquerade. As for the best part of the party, for me it’s the lead up to midnight because the subs get to mix and mingle with the Doms. The worst part is after selections are made and the couples or groups disperse.

Rick chuckles: But that’s the best part (looks down at Becka) Right, Boo? (Becka smiles and leans back into Rick’s touch.)

3) Other than your birthday what do you look forward to most about Halloween?

Becka laughs:  Having Mattie, Bryce and their kids over. Daddy loves having all the kids to tease and tell scary stories to.

Rick grumbles:  Only because he likes to make me do the monster under the bed routine before bedtime.

Becka grins up at him: You love it and you know it.

Rick remained silent, but his look promised retribution and Becka’s expression didn’t seem to mind.


4) Can you give us a hint as to what you’re dressing up as?

Qwillia: If they were going to the Midnight Masquerade, Rick would wear a tuxedo and Becka would have to wear a costume.

Becka fought a smile but lost: Danny, our oldest, has already decided he wants us to dress up as a lion tamer and a lioness.

Rick shook his head: Your father should never have taught him how to pick locks.


5) Halloween always seems like a magical night. Anything can happen; all the candles lit, the jack-o-lanterns and of course the candy and parties. What would you say your ideal Halloween would be?

Qwillia: For me, I would love to explore a real haunted house one Halloween. Or spend Halloween with the Ghost Hunters on some location.

Rick chuckled and shook his head: Only you would intentionally seek out something to scare you.

Qwillia: You betcha. I enjoy the paranormal even if I don’t write the genre.


6) Can you tell us a bit more about Diablo Blanco Club and where we can find out more about it?

Rick: The Diablo Blanco Club has been in operation since the early 1800s in Southern California—before the state was even a territory. If you go to Qwillia’s blog you can see the various books she’s written about the club members.

Qwillia mumbles in irritation: Except yours.

Becka patted Qwillia’s hand: You’ll get it finished.


7) Now I know you love pumpkin pie. What other treats do you love to make during this time of year?

Qwillia: Caramel apples, hot spiced cider, and my grandmother’s gingerbread cookies.
Becka peeks over to where Rick is offering a demonstration on the use of a tawse, she whispets: Rick likes to make old fashioned popcorn balls and caramel popcorn … but you didn’t hear that from me.

8) If you could go anywhere to celebrate Halloween where would you go?

Qwillia: Stanley House near Denver, Colorado or the USS North Carolina in Wilmington, North Carolina (both are reputed to be very haunted.)

Rick: The dungeons of the Diablo Blanco Club.


9) What do you have coming up for us? What tasty tidbits will be going on our must buy list?

Qwillia: As I said earlier, I’ve decided to try converting a deleted scene into a short, fun Halloween story. It’ll be an interesting tour through the dungeon of the Diablo Blanco Club during the Midnight Masquerade.


10) Please tell us where we can find you on the internet.


Facebook Fan Page:

Thank you for allowing me to interview you. I have the Cabana Men escort them out along with the goodies.


Rite of First Claim


All Romance Ebooks:



What’s a Dom to do when the submissive he wants runs from the feelings between them?

From the moment he met Lyssa Lawrence, Mike Halsey knew what he felt was love — not lust. Convincing her has been an uphill battle even after the two steamy hours they’d shared at the Diablo Blanco Club four years earlier.

Lyssa Lawrence wished the man who claimed to love her wasn’t so damned appealing. Eight years of denying the pull of her submissive nature almost went up in smoke four years ago, but she’d gathered the nerve to tell him ‘no’ when he asked for more. She’d have stayed away for good if her biological clock hadn’t hiccuped, threatening her dreams of motherhood.

In the same way she’d strategized her success in fashion design, Lyssa worked out a plan to get the baby she wanted. The Diablo Blanco Club’s annual Midnight Masquerade would provide a number of potential donors to choose from. What she hadn’t bargained on was Mike’s interference through an arcane Club rule.

When Mike invoked Rite of First Claim, Lyssa finally became his. Now, he has one month to prove that the role of his submissive was one she was born to play.



A stone frame accented the unique arched doorway, and a second brim of stone edged the frame. The letters etched into the gray rock were worn down by time and the weather, but each was still visible when she looked close.

“El diablo supone; el Dios sabe; los actos blancos del Diablo,” a man’s voice whispered into her ear.

Lyssa jumped at the amused tone. “Excuse me?”

The man beside Lyssa stepped into the glow of the lanterns that were shaped like medieval sconces on either side of the entrance. His hazel eyes glittered down at her. “The devil supposes; God knows; the white devil acts.”

A neatly trimmed goatee framed his mouth, accenting the full lower and slightly thinner upper lips. The whiskers were the same jet-black as the hair he’d pulled back and secured at his nape. The way he held himself and the self-control emanating from him gave more than enough of a clue that he was one of the Club’s dominants. His tailored tuxedo only confirmed it.

“The words.” The man motioned to the doorway’s decoration with his chin. “That’s what they mean.” His eyes twinkled with humor in his handsome face as he leaned back against the stone pillar to watch her.

Lyssa nodded at him. “I know. A friend of mine told me years ago.”

“Wouldn’t happen to be anyone I know, would it?”

“No.” Lyssa shook her head and grinned. “It was long ago. When I first moved to San Diablo.”

“With your sister, Mattie?”

Lyssa looked at him and finally recognized the man. “You’re David Henderson, aren’t you?” Heat filled her cheeks as an image of this man and his friend, Dayton Kringle—her target for the night—sharing a woman in the lounge of the Club four years earlier entered her mind. She’d joked with her sister about what it would feel like to be caught between a private dick and a hard Saint Nick. How ironic would it be if she were to actually experience it? She held her hand out to him.

He nodded and grinned. “And even with a wig on, I recognized you. You’re Lyssa Lawrence.”

His big hand wrapped around hers, but instead of a friendly handshake, he lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a gentlemanly kiss against her knuckles. The warmth of his breath took away the chill in her fingers for a moment.

After releasing her, he continued, “If a friend told you the motto when you first arrived, it must have been one of your foster brothers.”

The accuracy of his guess made Lyssa start. Then a wisp of memory surfaced. “I remember hearing you’re a detective.”

“Investigator. So was it one of Gino’s boys?”

The nerves relaxed in her belly at the mention of her foster father. It was possible David only recalled the information about her and her sister because he’d been tasked to do a background check on her sister when Mattie first started working as Bryce’s personal assistant twelve years ago. Lyssa admitted, “Yes, it was one of Gino’s boys. I’d forgotten about the inscription being there.”

David stepped aside as another couple ascended the stairs to the front of the Club. He guided Lyssa away from the steps with a hand at her elbow. “I’ll bet Gino tanned his son’s hide for bringing you out here to begin with.”

“Marco was scrubbing hulls for a month.” Lyssa laughed as she recalled the punishment her foster father, the owner of a small boatbuilding and repair shop, had meted out. Her gaze returned to the stone engraving, then drifted back to David.

He extended his hand. “Would you allow me to escort you, or are you having second thoughts?”

Lyssa looked at the hand he held out to her. She might have dressed for her intended target, but nothing said she needed to center her attention exclusively on that man. Considering David posed a likely candidate, it made sense she take the opportunity to acquaint herself with him. Her intended quarry might already be inside or en route. Either way, Lyssa knew what she was looking for, and she wouldn’t settle for less. “No, no second thoughts. As for your escort, I would like that. Thank you.” Lyssa allowed him to settle her hand in the crook of his elbow and draw her through the entrance and into the Club.

Unlike other fetish clubs she’d seen online or had described to her, there were no dimmed lights or curtained hallways leading to private rooms. Instead the paneled walls and crown molding exuded a sophistication and respectability equal to any of the exclusive country or yacht clubs up and down the California coast. These little details made it easier for her to keep her emotions under control. And staying in control, especially tonight, was paramount to the success of her plan. She didn’t dare give in to the temptation to submit to a dominant, no matter how much a part of her craved to do so.

The majority of the guests were dressed in evening gowns or tuxedos. The only ones in costume, like her, were submissives—both those owned and those looking for owners. Scanning the faces, she identified several of her potential donors, but she was careful not to stare at them in a way that might arouse unease or make them leery of her approach. She ignored the tiny pain that twisted her heart when Mike wasn’t among the guests. Forget the fantasy and face reality, Lyssa.

“Smile. We aren’t that scary,” David whispered, his warm breath stirring the hair of her auburn wig over her ear.

A tingle slid up Lyssa’s spine.

“You’ve been here often enough to know we don’t bite.” A wicked grin lifted his lips. “Well, not unless you ask us to.”

Contest: Comment with your favorite Halloween treat to be entered tow win a copy of Rite of First Claim!

Character Q&A with Vlad from the Poker Posse

The wonderful Qwillia Rain has allowed me to interview one of her sexy heroes from her new series the Poker Posse. Come along and find out more about this sexy and mysterious man.

Magnolia, Georgia

With Se beside me, I head toward the small table in front of Sweet Rose Treats and wave at the older gentlemen rising from the chair. He ducks his head to avoid bumping into the red and white striped umbrella shading the table and pulls out two chairs, motioning for Se and I to sit down. The summer heat in Georgia has miraculously cooled in the last few days, but I don’t expect it to last.

Hiding the smirk at the sigh Se gives as she gazes up at the tall, handsome man, I begin the introductions. “Selena Illyria, this is Vladamir Presnaytz. Vlad, Selena Illyria. She’s a friend and fellow author.”

He takes her hand in his and lifts it to his lips for a soft, courtly kiss to the back of her hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Illyria. Miss Rain has told me you were interested in discussing Magnolia and the Omen.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes at Vlad’s intentional thickening of his Slovakian accent. The fact that the man looks like a very well-preserved Michael Nouri when he played a vampire in the 1990s doesn’t hurt either. Well over six feet tall, he waits until both of us are seated then takes his seat and offers to pour tea from the pitcher on the table.

We accept his offer and wait until the glasses are filled and placed before us, then I ask, “Are we early?”

Vlad shook his head. “No. I spoke with the others but,” he fought to keep from grinning—and lost. “They were all too busy dealing with —things— to be able to sit down for an interview.”

I glance at Se. “I’ll corral a couple of them later for you. Promise.”

“I hope I will be able to quell your curiosity, Miss Illyria.”

Leaning back, I sip the sweet tea and watch as Se begins the interrog—interview.


Selena Illyria: Okay, why don’t you tell me a little about yourself? What do you do for a living? What’s your favorite ice cream flavor? You know the basics.

Vlad: I dabble in many things. He motioned to the building behind him, the strip mall where Rose and Ibraham’s shops were located. Wine making. Real Estate. Business. Whatever interests me. I am fortunate that my family has prospered since coming to America. Slova Wines and the profits I receive as a stock holder has allowed me to explore a great many things over the years. As for my favorite ice cream— he makes a low purring sound paired with a slow smile— Vanilla.

Selena Illyria fans herself but manages to ask another question.: What would you say is your best trait? Your worst habit?

Vlad: He seems to ponder his answer. Best trait? Focus. Once I’ve established a goal and the path to achieving it, nothing can distract me from succeeding at it. Worst? He released a heavy sigh. Focus. He doesn’t expound on it, but it’s apparent by the sadness in his dark gray eyes that his memories of the years without the woman he loves are close to the surface.

Selena Illyria: Now you are a Dom. Vlad nods. Besides RACK what personal rules do you have for subs?

Vlad: There hasn’t been much need for rules, until recently, since I rarely entered into negotiations for anything beyond a night or two. After Viola, my primary rule became “full disclosure”. No holding back about anything.

I watch his expression and understand his reasoning. If he’d practiced that rule when he first met Viola, things would have been much different than they’d been. At the same time, there’s no telling if Rose and Viola would have been the same people they are now, or if Ibraham would have ever looked at Rose the way he does.

Selena Illyria: Let’s get personal. What do you look for in a romantic partner?

Vlad: After a slow shake of his head, he sipped his tea and waited a moment before answering. I don’t. Viola was it. The whole package. Smart, funny, feisty—everything I never knew I wanted. My myš. If I’d paid better attention to my instincts things would have been very different.

I pipe up. No telling what it would have been like, Vlad. It might have been worse than it is now.

Vlad: he doesn’t ignore my suggestion, but a weary look crosses his face. Ah, but there would have definitely been more than one child.

I nod and keep my lips firmly sealed.

Selena Illyria: What’s your best pick up line? What’s your worst? Do you even have to use one?

Vlad: Laughing, he leans forward then lets a smile slowly lift his lips, the gray of his eyes lightens and his deep voice drops to a low purr. Pick up lines are for amateurs, my dear.

Selena Illyria: looks away, takes a sip of sweet tea, then brushes her hands on her jeans before she manages to look up and asks,  If you were a dessert what kind would you be?

Vlad: A playful grin makes him look nearly as young as his godson, Ibraham. Black Forest Cake. Dark, rich, and sinfully decadent.

Selena Illyria takes another sip of tea, fans herself before she asks: What is your sexiest fantasy?

Vlad: Feeling my mouse’s arms around me again. Hearing her soft Southern drawl whisper against my skin telling me all the things she can’t wait for me to do to her. Listening for the tiny squeaks she makes as she comes. Knowing she is mine. Always.

Selena Illyria: Even though they aren’t here, how would you describe the other guys? Let’s start with Damian.

Vlad: I have only just met my godson’s friend so I have no way of knowing what each of them are like. But Damian, that boy doesn’t let anyone close. A crease formed between his brows then slowly eased. I worry about him.

Selena Illyria: Silly time, what would you say is your most embarrassing moment?

Vlad: Shifting in his seat, a flush darkens his cheeks. I’d rather not repeat it, but suffice to say, there is now a very sturdy lock on the laundry room door and plans to put a door and lock on the doorway into the kitchen.

Selena Illyria: Thank you for taking the time to answer my questions. Last one I promise. What would you say, in one sentence, to get a person to check out the Omen?

Vlad: Despite its name, the Omen is a well-managed, well-respected club. Damian runs a tight ship and he protects those who come there as long as they follow the rules of SSC. Safewords are inviolate. Break the rules and there’s no returning.

Selena Illyria: That’s more than one sentence.

Vlad: Vlad laughed and leaned forward, his forearms braced on the table, his gaze focused on Se, the expression on his face sensually compelling. It was no wonder Viola fell for the man the instant she met him all those years ago. In a low tone, his Slovakian accent heavy, reminding me again of Michael Nouri’s vampire— If a taste of the dark side is your desire, the Omen is the perfect choice to keep you safe—for now.

Movement across the street catches his attention and a broad smile lights up his face. Getting to his feet, it’s clear the interview is over as he kisses first Se’s hand then mine.

Vlad: It has been a pleasure, but if you will excuse me, I have to go catch a mouse.

He didn’t wait for us to agree before he stepped off the sidewalk and strode across the street toward Viola Whittman, Rose’s mother, as she hovered outside the bank, a letter gripped in her hand, a stern look on her face.


QR_Revealed_coverinRevealed: A Poker Posse Story  


Viola Whittman has only ever loved one man, Vladamir Presnaytz. Now that’s he’s reentered her life will she be able to make him understand the decision she made that kept him separated from his child?

Now that Vladamir has discovered her secret, it threatens to destroy their second chance together. Can the past be forgiven or will their dreams of happily ever after die when the full extent of her betrayal is revealed?



Viola flinched as the quiet closing of the door confirmed her suspicions regarding how tightly Vladamir held his anger in check. The time of reckoning was upon her.

Despite the flurry of activity at Mirabeth’s baby shower, Viola had sensed the gradual rise of emotion in Vlad. Raelene hadn’t helped matters any. Her other friends had covered their shock at how much Rose looked like Vlad with awkward smiles, but they kept their questions to themselves.

Not Rae. Oh no. That woman was biologically incapable of passing up an opportunity to gossip. Having been fodder for Rae’s wicked tongue in the past, Viola had done her best not to respond when Rae sidled up to her and chuckled. “Seems someone’s been keepin’ a very big secret.”

It was harder not to snatch her friend bald when Rae decided to turn her charms on Vlad. Maybe Rae thought he’d talk when Viola refused to rise to her bait. The fact that Vlad stayed beside Viola and ignored Rae’s overtures eased Viola’s temper some.

But she wished she didn’t feel ready to jump out of her skin. Vlad’s prolonged silence on the drive back from Mabel’s had stretched her nerves thin. Now that she was alone with Vlad, and as the sun sank below the horizon, Viola knew she had some explaining to do.

Over the years she’d practiced how she’d tell Vlad about Rose, but the instant he turned and she saw his face, her blood went cold and any courage she had drained out of her. Viola headed for the kitchen. “I’ll make us some tea.”

“No.” The deep resonance of his voice filled the living room.

Viola halted in her tracks, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn and face him again. His flat expression and icy eyes frightened her more than she could have imagined.


Her fingers tangled together. Her heart slammed against her ribs. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room, and she couldn’t breathe as she worked up the strength to look at him. No matter how she tried to convince herself, and even after the careful way he’d made love to her this morning, Viola had wondered if a relationship between them could last, considering the secret she’d kept from him. Though twenty-seven years separated her from the naive young woman who’d fallen head over heels for Vlad the moment he rescued her from unwanted attentions at a night club, Viola easily recognized that a man like Vladamir, someone who’d instinctively protected a stranger, would never forgive her for staying quiet about his daughter the way she had.


She shook off the temptation to cower and beg forgiveness. She’d done nothing wrong based on the information she’d had all those years ago. She’d done what was best for her and her—their—daughter. She needed to remember that. Straightening her shoulders, Viola drew a deep breath and turned to face her lover. She’d learned to stand on her own two feet after her trip to California and meeting Vlad. She’d survived the sudden death of her husband five years earlier. She wouldn’t crumble when Vlad turned his back on her. At least not for long.

“What do you want me to say?” She forced herself to meet his gaze. The chill in his eyes didn’t make her feel any better—only worse.

“The truth. Tell me why you kept my child from me.”

She winced at the sorrow in his voice. “Because I thought you were married.”

“I wasn’t.”

“I know that now, but not then.” The tension in her body eased when he turned his focus away from her and began to pace the living room like a tiger in a too-small cage. A tiger ready to pounce on anything or anyone that got in its way.