Are You A-Mused? With Guest Blogger Amber Scott

This afternoon the Book Boost welcomes author Amber Scott to discuss the magic of a muse!

Win a free signed copy of her book Play Fling!


How I Met My Muse

Milla likes her toenails violet, her eyeliner ebony and her jeans ripped. When it comes to romance, many genres will do. Erotica, paranormal, historical. Even romantic comedy. And crossing genres? She’s blends them as readily as her electric blue eyeshadow.

Milla is my muse.

Interestingly enough, I only met her two months ago.

Now, how in the world could I have completed ten manuscripts, two screenplays and published six novels having never encountered my muse?

As they say, denial ain’t just a river in Egypt. Basically, for the last five years, I’ve pretended I was in charge.

You see, Milla is a spontaneous and cocky little thing. She’s a pantser through and through. I, on the other hand, am a plotter. One of my nicknames, Anal Amber, was inspired by my love for straightening, organizing and color coordinating refrigerator magnets.

How did I not acknowledge Milla though, when I’ve clearly been listening? And, more importantly, why?

I’ve heard her and followed. I wrote every varying genre, despite my perfectionist anxiety that I should just pick one. I followed my favorite ideas down each dark tunnel and found their light.

Then, a month ago, as I trotted along my well planned path, polishing one work in progress for submission, drafting another in a nice succinct rhythm, Milla put her spiked heel down.
I found myself suddenly and inexplicably obsessed with an erotica series idea that had been sitting in my mental green room for years. Milla had decided. It was time. So much so that all my waking thoughts revolved around this character and premise. To the point that I couldn’t read or edit or write another thing.

So, I tried to indulge her. I jotted down some notes thinking I’d “get it out”. And get back to work! Yeah, uh, not so much. Two weeks later, I completed a novella that knocked my own socks off. Whoa. I didn’t even know writing could be like this! No, that isn’t true. I knew it could, but somehow didn’t think it would for me. It took facing—embracing—my muse and all the fear doing so conjured in my heart.

I’d heard Milla all along. I just hadn’t seen her. I hadn’t accepted her for who she is, and therefore, I suppose, me for the author I am. What a relief! Milla’s warm and generous and contagiously enthusiastic, but watch out, she’s got heels and knows how to use them. (No wonder Charles hates my shoes—another story entirely.)

A Note from the Book Boost: That is too funny Amber! Congrats on embracing your muse. Mine is a dirty girl who only visits me while I'm in the shower or bath tub. Well, either that or she's really a mermaid? Please tell us more about your amazing book...

Blurb:

Face Your Target... Brooke Munkle didn't leave a lukewarm marriage just to flounce into the first hot bed. Too young, too hot, Elliott Jovovich has no business distracting her from starting over. If only he'd get out of her fantasies. Maybe if she keeps things simple, she can allow herself one naughty indulgence. After all, who will know?

Pull The String... Elliott sees through Brooke's stiff facade. Underneath her struggle to hold it all together, a vibrant, wanton woman is waiting to be freed. To win her heart, he'll play by her rules, which would be a a lot easier if her hostile best friend didn't fight so dirty. Sure, he has ammo of his own, but what he knows could hurt Brooke.

Steady. Aim. Release... Millie Match isn't sure what she did to deserve this matchmaking hell. The sneaking around, the spying, compatibility issues, chemistry crises. Her target, Brooke, is keeping secrets. Elliott is definitely Mr. Wrong. And if Millie doesn't make true love magic now, she'll lose the one thing in this punishment worth fighting for.

Excerpt:

“I think I’ve made a mistake,” Brooke said, amazed her voice didn’t crack. “I think I have to go.”

“Don’t go,” Elliott said again, stepping close.

His words enveloped her. Had she thought his glasses made him irresistible? She’d been wrong. His lashes set off depths so blue, so intense, they might penetrate her soul.

Slowly, he reached up, pushed a lock of hair from her face. His finger ran along her cheek, to her lobe, down her neck and up to her chin. With gentle pressure, he tipped her chin up. Brooke’s hands shook. Her mouth watered. Her mind searched for words and found two: don’t go.

How could she?

His gaze captivated hers. He lowered his head. She closed her eyes. The tremble in her hands spread up her arms, down her legs. Yes. God, yes. Let him kiss her. Let her taste his lips on hers, his breath, his mouth.

“Stay,” he whispered against her lips.

She failed to shake her head, no, she wouldn’t go. He began at her chin, a graze, and in slow succession, breathed and kissed and wet her skin. Kisses. Tantalizing, sensual, tickling. Around her mouth, teasing her. Away again, torture.

Her knees turned to water. She almost whimpered. His mouth found her hungry lips. Brooke gasped. His hands raked into her hair. He kissed her lower lip, moved to the side, never quite meeting her fully. Brooke moaned, awash with a full body shiver. Musk and sandalwood intoxicated her senses. Mint, sweet on her tongue. She swayed her weight toward his body. He slid his hand over her lower back, steadying her.

Her lips parted, begging entry. He took it. His tongue carefully delved, explored as her lips, suckled and pressed. Brooke returned each caress, mindless of all but each sensation coming over her mouth, washing her body.

Her hands rose to his chest. His roamed over her back, ever lower, inch-by-inch to her hips. He broke the kiss and pulled away.

Brooke opened her eyes. She could hardly think.

He swallowed. “I want you.”

Want More Amber?

Visit her website here: http://amberscottproject.com
Or her blog here: http://plotmamas.com
Pick up your copy of Play Fling today. Click here!

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