Publisher: JMS Books
Length: 104,000 words approx.
Meet two men who need each other’s help but don’t realize it until it’s almost too late.
Noah is gay and terrified someone might find out. So much so that when he was blackmailed with pictures of himself with another man, instead of coming clean, he left his SEAL team without a word.
The other man is openly gay Mason, a former Marine and now part of the FBI’s Joint Terrorist Task force. It takes eight years after their first meeting in the desert for a chance event bring the two men together again. Now Noah must decide if he’s ready to accept who he is or if it’s easier to cut and run. Can they navigate the obstacles in their path to build a relationship? And why does the thought of that scare them more than investigating a group of terrorists?
Author Interview with LA Bryce
What have I written?
I write m/m romance. My current story In His Sights features gay protagonists who were both in the military. One was a Navy SEAL and one a Marine who now works for the FBI on the Joint Terrorist Task Force.
What inspires you to write?
People are my main inspiration when it comes to writing. I want my readers to be able to read about characters just like them as well as those they may otherwise never get the chance to meet. I write romance because I believe, especially in today’s world people need hope, and I truly believe that reading a book guaranteed to end in a Happily Ever After, is something that can offer people that hope.
What is your motivation for writing more?
The way I feel when I’m writing is beyond amazing—that is, when the ideas are flowing—not so much when my mind is as blank as the paper. Also finishing a story is like nothing else. The accomplishment, the excitement, the pride, even the nerves, all mix together it’s a heady feeling. And the idea that even one person reading it might get the feels is something I can’t even express, again it’s a mixture of excitement, pride, and a whole lot of nerves. And to top it all off the amazing people I meet, both other writers and readers just puts the whole adventure in a class of its own.
What, according to you, is the hardest thing about writing?
For me the hardest thing about writing is the time it takes to do it. It takes time away from my doing other things which is usually the time I spend with my family. Budgeting time and keeping a schedule is awesome but not always practical. The best thing to hope for is an understanding and flexible family. And if they don’t mind cooking that’s a bonus.
What works best for you: Typewriters, fountain pen, dictate, computer or longhand?
After trying all the various ways of writing I have always found my ideas flow freer and faster when I’m writing by hand. I’ve also spent years being an accountant and find writing with a pencil best. There is always a pencil and notebook with me regardless of where I am. And if somehow they’re not close enough at the time an idea is sparked, I’ve been known to write ideas down on napkins, receipts, and my hand.
Do you need to be in a specific place or room to write, or you can just sit in the middle of a café full of people and write?
I have three boys and learned early in my writing career how to zone things out so that I can get some words on paper. So loud noises and talking people are okay. But crazily, I can’t listen to music when I write—and I have no idea why. So, I can be in a room filled with people all talking at once, but if someone breaks out the karaoke machine, I’m done for.
What did you learn while writing this story?
I’d love for this answer to be that I learned the secret of writing a best seller, or even a more prolific way to turn a phrase, but that’s not quitt how it went. What I learned from writing this book is that evidently my favorite curse word is FUCK. And I have a propensity to use it A LOT! While writing I hadn’t noticed, when I did my editing, nope didn’t spot it then, not even on my final read through-which I did out loud (which I now hope wasn’t when my little men were around)-before sending it to my editor. It wasn’t until my editor sent me the final file, and I decided to have my computer read to me that I realize how the word fuck had hijacked a large portion of my word count. My editor, being the wonder that she is, let me go back and pull some, most, of them out—twice—and for that I’m forever grateful!!
“So, what are your plans for the night?” Mason asked.
Plan on getting fucked up, then sleep at the gate until my flight is ready to take off. Or… “I’m going to hang for a bit longer, then head over to one of the hotels the flight attendants had mentioned. Heard them say a few had shuttles to the airport.”
“All right.” Mason seemed to want to say more, but for some reason he hesitated.
“You going to head out?” Noah asked, believing Mason felt bad about leaving him there. That was ridiculous.
“I’m thinking you can come with me. I have a spare room and can run you back here first thing in the morning. What do you say?”
Noah hadn’t seen that coming. What do I say? “I’ll be fine. Thought I’d hang around for a bit, and be ready to crash when I get to a hotel.”
“Well, it’s not really hopping here. And if Guinness is your drink of choice, I’ve got plenty at home.”
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
“No bother. Like I said, I have the room. Bringing you here tomorrow is not a big deal.”
Noah wasn’t sure why he was so uncertain about going with Mason. A soft bed in a warm, quiet house played better than an uncomfortable seat in a cold, noisy airport.
“Um. Yeah. Thanks.”
Mason’s smile grew. “Good. Finish that drink, and let’s head out. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
Noah had made a mistake.
Mason laughed. Confused, Noah just watched him.
“You should have seen your face. You turned white as a sheet.” Mason let out a hearty laugh. “Relax. I’m not going to make you play twenty questions. Okay?”
Noah was an ass. Mason was kidding, and Noah was having a heart attack. Jesus. When had he gotten so freaked out by talking? Six months, three days and about twenty-two hours ago. Right before his life fell to shit.
About The Author
LA has always lived in the North East and has recently stretched her boundaries and moved further North—the more relaxed life style giving her more time to write—in theory anyway.
Among the things she loves besides writing and her family are her friends, those she writes with and those she writes about, reading, games (the kind with boards, not in love), playing poker, her dogs, Nutella and Bok Choy, and of course, the men and women from the Military, past and present, who keep us safe.
When she finds herself stuck at the keyboard, her fingers refusing to move, her characters refusing to talk, she likes to take a break, blast some music, and dance like no one is watching her or sing her heart out into her hairbrush microphone.
She’s living her happily ever after and wants the same for all her characters. LA believes love comes in all different packages and each should be wrapped in a ribbon and cherished.
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