Author Spotlight: Angela Plowman

Please Join me in welcoming the delightful Angela Plowman, here to talk about her first novel. A regency paranormal with a young shapshifter who passes himself off as a catamite in order to get close to the man of his dreams. It's delish!

A Wolf in the Fold is available now from Loose Id.

Here's a blurb:

When dissolute romantic Henry Garrett enjoys a hot night of illicit sex with a hired whore he thinks it will end there. What he does not expect is for his one-night stand to follow him home and turn his life upside down, leading him down a path of self discovery with consequences quite beyond his wildest romantic imaginings.

Gabriel is wild, sexy, knows what he wants and is not afraid to bend over to get it but he could be more of a danger than even Henry thinks. Because there is something dangerous in the woods of Garrett Hall, and it just could be that Henry’s wild lover is a threat to more than his lifestyle. Sado-masochism may not be the only secret pretty Gabriel was hiding.

Angie is giving away a free e-copy of A Wolf in the Fold here today. To enter to win, please leave a comment on this post and include your email address.

And Don't miss the excerpt at the bottom of the post. But first, here's an interview where Angie bares all. Ooooh!

Why do you write?

I have no idea.

Because I have to. Because I am breathing. I have never not written.

What do you like to read?

Classical literature – English, Chinese, or American; m/m; and Yaoi manga.

What is your most embarrassing experience as an author?

I am still waiting for it – I am sure it will happen soon. I am a wonder for putting my foot in it. It’s an almost pathological condition for me. I sometimes think I am not quite from the same planet as everyone else – so I am bund to embarrass myself to total death any day now.

I did once think I had accidentally emailed a Frodo/Aragorn story to my father-in-law.

OMG!

As they say – “To err is human, but to really foul up takes a computer”. I hadn’t but for a while there I was planning how I could get into the witness protection scheme or if I should just kill myself on the spot.

What is your favourite guilty pleasure?

Yaoi. I am such a perv. Katrina Stauss of ‘Blue Ruin’ fame pointed me in the direction of Manga. It took me a while to get it. For quite a while I have had a thing for oriental cultures and for m/m. Then I realised the two could combine.

Do they say anything worth having is wroth working for? Well, it took me a while to figure out the appeal of fandom slash – and then I was all for it, especially “Wiseguy” and then “Lord of the Rings”. Then it took me a while to figure out m/m fiction on LooseID – and I was such a goner. Then it took me a while to figure out Manga Yaoi – now I have quite the collection. I just had to pay for excess baggage coming back from New York with a suitcase full of the stuff.I love the stories with humour to them – and if they have hot sex too then I am perfectly happy. If you can have Yaoi set in a 19^th century English country house then I guess that is what “Wolf at the Door” is. A cross between Yaoi, Emily Bronte and Saki. Now there is a ghastly image. My sister did suggest I call the book “Buggering Heights.”

That's a great title. What was one of your favourite books as a kid?

“The Hobbit”. Heck – still is one of my favourite books.

Funny, I just reread it for the first time in years. It is charmingly written. I love how he handled the omniscient viewpoint.

But we digress. Back you your interview, young lady.

Now, why do you think m/m is so popular? *Folds arms, taps foot and looks stern.*

Cause we are a monumental bunch of pervs? (Good answer!) Because there are no boring descriptions of female bits? As a friend said “I have those parts myself, I want to play with different ones.” Lovely yummy male bits whereever you look.

And do you now write, or have you ever written, fanfic? If so, what fandoms, pairings, etc?

Could that most embarrassing thing as a writer be about to happen? I can hardly believe some of the rubbish I have written. “Airwolf”, “Battlestar Galactica.” I really hope that stuff has vanished without a trace by now in the world of zines – ahh, those pre-internet days? Most recently it was “Lord of the Rings.” One hundred and sixty Frodo centered short stories to be exact. That was a busy 6 years, but we had so much fun. And I do have to blame the hobbit for leading me to LooseID. I followed the furry feet of a fellow fan fiction writer and ended up in a world weirder than Middle Earth and a lot hotter than the flames of Mount Doom.

What is your proudest moment as an author?

Maybe it comes along with the most embarrassing moment. You see, I did tell my parents I had an eBook accepted for publication (just not what sort of eBook). My dad was very chuffed. So chuffed, he has been telling everyone about it. We went on holiday together at the beginning of this year and I found out one night he had told half the blasted boat about it. On one hand, that is so great – my dad being proud of me; on the other hand, what if he ever found out exactly what I have written? I think I would go up in a puff of smoke.

So far I have got away with it by telling my parents it is a romance and so they need not bother to read it as I know it would not interest them. Neither of them read much now-a-days so I may have got away with it.

Actually – yes, my proudest moment as an author was when dad edited a fantasy story for me and put a post it note on it saying “good story”. I think that was the first time my dad had ever praised me.

What kind of impact do you hope your work will have on readers?

I hope they like my characters and find them attractive and interesting. Hey, I hope it gets them all hot and bothered – and gives them a laugh. I have no idea if the humour will translate. Brits have an odd sense of humour. I could not write anything like this without my tongue being firmly in my cheek – but will that have come over?

I hope people will enjoy it and maybe love Gabriel a little. He is my 19^th century twink and I am totally in love with him myself. He’s sensual and gorgeous, passionate and sensitive. He knows what he wants and is not afraid to go for it. I just hope he comes over the way I want him to. He is teasing and naughty but also totally devoted to his Master. To me he seems so alive.

He seems very alive to me in the excerpt. I had an immediate sense of who he was and I wanted to know more about him.

I will let you in on a little secret no one else knows. Until he men Henry my Gabriel was a virgin. That hot night in the inn was his first time. He fell in love with Henry at first spank.

Kirk, or Spock?

Easy one that. Kirk until the end of time and beyond.

Click below for a luscious excerpt from Angela's Buggering Heights A Wolf in the Fold.

Please note, by clicking the link below, you certify that you are eighteen years of age or older, and that it is legal for you to view sexually explicit material.

Excerpt from A Wolf in the Fold:

“Your room’s ready, sir, if you’ve a mind for it. Anytime you are.” My hostess appeared by my elbow and gusted my face with her rancid breath. A little too much at the profits, I thought.

I stood, if only to get away from her. Strong liquor had little appeal to me, even when imbibed firsthand. The pleasures of the drink never seemed to outweigh the morning after for me. Yet another of my failures.

The friend who had directed me to the inn—quaintly called the Bantam Cock and advertised by a proud-wattled rooster on the street sign—had told me the code word I needed to use, but for the life of me, I could not now recall it. It seemed my landlady had read me reasonably well, though.

“A cold night, sir. Would you be having me send up Sally with a bed warmer for you? I’ll have the extras added to your account.” There was enough lasciviousness in her tone to make her meaning abundantly plain. Well, maybe she had not understood me quite so well.

“I have no need of the girl.” I put a little extra emphasis on the feminine term in the hope she would read me better. The procuress nodded and bobbed to me.

I only grunted and followed her upstairs to a surprisingly well-maintained room. There was little more in it than a double bed, a chair already set before the warmly burning fire, and a low table with a bottle and a glass by it. All I would need for the night.

I thanked her and she left.

I set my bag upon the bed and tested the mattress. It was a little soft for my tastes but would do for the duration of my stay. I had quite shaken my fancy of the woodland and was inclined to put it down to my overactive imagination. I pulled off my boots and massaged my feet one after the other. I wish I had thought to call for a bath, but the effort it would take now was not worth it. I would be at home tomorrow with my own things around me set up as I liked.

A washbasin and jug stood on the bedside table, and I was making my ablutions when a scuffle out in the corridor was all the notice I got before the door opened.

I had in my time seen some beautiful young men, mostly in artists’ studios or houses like this one, though of better repute, in London itself. But I had never seen a youth like this.

A thick mane of hair so dark as to be almost black fell to his shoulders. At this distance I could not tell the color of the eyes beneath thick, dark brows, but they were remarkable and piercing. His nose was well made and straight above a mouth so full it was deserving of the title sensuous. He had a certain insolent look to his face and something half wild to his countenance.

He wore a long, dark riding coat, and with no more ado than shutting the door behind him and dropping the latch, this he let fall to the floor to reveal that he wore not a stitch of clothing beneath. He was slender with the look of a youth who had recently outgrown his coltishness. Well-toned, he looked fine and fit. There was little hair on his body, but I took him to be not far out of his teens if out of them at all.

His limbs and body were a golden brown that spoke of being outdoors much, but he was too smooth and lithe for farm labor and the tan too uniform. He had been under the sun and naked there too. He could have been a stable lad who sun bathed naked on his days off, but he looked more like a wild thing that had strayed in from the forest.

His member was already semierect, reaching from its nest of dark curls, slender and long. I swallowed at the sight of this pagan vision. Even the god Pan had not been cut from nature’s own cloth the way this youth was. He was beautiful in his raw, untamed state.

“Do you like what you see, sir?” he asked with a twist to his lip as if already certain of the answer.

“You’ll do,” I replied, but he was too sure of himself for his smile to fail.

To show I was not daunted by his confidence, I approached him. He was a little below my own height, but if I hoped to intimidate him with my added stature, I was to be disappointed there. In fact, he raised a hand to my chin.

“You’re a fair one yourself,” he responded, and I could not help but feel a little pleased. I had been told I was good-looking, but it should not matter to me what this hired boy thought. His fingers were long and clever, uncalloused. More and more intriguing.

Up close I could still not quite tell the color of his eyes, as they seemed to change in the reflected firelight. I would say they were hazel, but a color so light it bordered on gold. His face was smooth and youthful. I could see he was a little older than I had first thought but still some years below my own age.

“What’s it to be then?” he asked as he ran his hand down the front of my shirt under my cravat and started to loosen the buttons he found there. I could not place his soft accent. His speech was working class but not coarse or unpleasant. Mayhap he had been educated to be more pleasing to his clients, thought it was unlikely many of them bought him for his speech.

What indeed? This fascinating creature was mine to do with as I pleased this night.

I trailed my fingers down the valley of his arse.

“I already prepared myself,” he said.

Now that was a sight I wish I had seen: this wild youth kneeling on a chair, perhaps, as he reached between his own legs, those clever, long fingers oiled as he stretched and prepared his entrance for me. I was rapidly nearing full hardness behind the placket of my trousers.

Not wanting to appear too eager for him, I turned away and moved to the side of the bed, loosening my cravat and sliding it from my neck. I finished the work he had started on my shirt buttons and pulled the garment from my shoulders. I heard no movement, but suddenly he was at my back, reaching round to the fastening of my trousers. He paused to palm the thickness beneath the material, outlining and shaping my member.

I could not help but sigh a little at the warmth of his palm seeping through the cloth. I hardened fully at just that touch. He moved to undo my trousers, then slid his hands down my hips to slide the material of breeches and undergarments together from me. I lifted my feet to aid removal, and he went to his knees in front of me and reached up to my erection.

I looked down, and through that wild tangle of hair, with those feral green-gold eyes, he grinned up at me before swiping his tongue along the length of my member.

I tried to lock my knees, but I confess I trembled slightly. It was not as though I indulged this sin very often and never with a wild-looking beauty such as knelt to my service now.

He grinned again and then licked more, swirling his tongue around me before planting a brief but hard suck to the tip.

“Let’s get you to the bed,” he said, standing up, much to my disappointment, though I could see the logic. I didn’t really want to be falling on my backside in the middle of the room and doubted my legs could hold me up.