Welcome fellow Soul Mate Publishing author, Em Kaye…
She’s here to tell us about her sexy new release, At Your Service, and a bit about herself.
First a few questions…
Do you have a pet?
She looks like she has black fur but in the sunshine, it’s more like melted chocolate. She likes to drink dripping water. I’ve bought several drinking dishes before realizing that she doesn’t like the ones that have the water sliding down like a sluice and finally have one where the water bubbles up.
In my just contracted book, Dear Diary – Alexandria’s and Zack’s Story, I based the cat called Muggins on her (although he’s a male).
Where does your novel take place? Why did you choose that location? Have you ever been there?
The place, Belleville, is imaginary, so I’ve only been there in my mind. There is no specific place that I based the book on. When the heroine is in hero’s office (on the top floor of a building), his windows overlook the harbor.
What is your favorite childhood TV show and what do you remember fondly about it?
I’m not sure that there was just one show.
I liked westerns – Roy Rogers, The Lone Ranger, etc. I used to climb a tree in our apple orchard and sit on a branch, pretending it was my horse. By the way, I loved horses so much that my school bus driver gave me a magazine featuring horses for sale. I teased until I talked my mother into getting me a subscription to it. I never did get a horse. I remember at a school-sponsored event, paying for a ride on a horse and so being scared. Guess that’s the last time I had dreams of being a cowgirl.
What was one of your favorite songs/bands in high school?
As a teenager, I was head over heels in love with Paul Anka and loved his song Put Your Head On My Shoulder. I can remember thinking how romantic it was.
What is your favorite decade and why?
I think the ‘60’s would have to be my favorite decade especially now looking back. There were so many changes taking place and it’s hard to describe to my kids and grandchildren how exciting and sad a time it was.
Our president, John F. Kennedy was assassinated in 1963.
It’s when hippies and Woodstock (’69) were the norm and I wore wooden clogs, had long hair, and a MIA bracelet for with a soldier’s name on it to bring attention to the Vietnam War. I was married by the mid-60’s, but my heart was still with those making big changes in the world.
Do you believe in UFO’s?
Yes, of course!
How can we not think there might be other life, more advanced, that want to check us out? I have always, since I was a little kid, watched movies (Close Encounters of the Third Kind is a favorite) and documentaries on the subject.
Have I ever seen one?
No, but do I believe that they might be real? Oh, yeah.
Now…At Your Service, by Em Kaye!
Sydney Stewart had turned doing favors for friends into a growing business. Putting a bad relationship behind her, she was determined to guard her heart the next time around.
Desmond Butler was everything Sydney would want—if she were looking for a man—except she wasn’t. Plus, he had this one flaw. Could she look past his habit of spanking her whenever he thought she was naughty?
“This is the last straw!” Sydney Stewart muttered out loud. I’d asked politely, then nicely, and even one time more forcibly. The work crew wasn’t getting the message that they shouldn’t block my parking spot. A sleek, black SUV with darkened windows and a ‘Butler Industries’ sign on the side was parked just enough in front of the entrance to my space that I couldn’t get my car in.
There was no wiggle room to maneuver my vehicle into the slot. Mr. Ashton, from the accounting firm on the fifth floor, had parked his car with the wheels smack dab on the painted line separating our adjoining spots.
“Am I expecting too much?” I mumbled, continuing to present my case to no one in particular. Entering the construction site adjacent to my office building, I focused on searching for the idiot who had done this. Trying to dodge potholes, most containing water from the rain during the night, I grimaced when I stepped in one, my favorite shoe disappearing below the surface.
“Lady! You can’t go in there. It’s a hard hat area!” A guy hollered.
“Watch me,” I answered, never breaking my stride. Although in retrospect probably not loudly enough for him to hear.
Making my way up the metal steps to the door of the trailer posing as an office I flung it wide open, not even reacting to the loud sound it made hitting the trailer’s outer wall.
Seven pairs of eyes, belonging to men in work clothes and the required yellow hard hats, turned their attention from the blueprints scattered on the table in front of them to the irate woman standing in front of them – me. Stamping my wet foot hard, I began to question my judgment.
A man in a blue plaid shirt raised a quizzical brow. “Uh, ma’m?”
“Whose vehicle is that?” I pointed in what I hoped was the right direction.
After looking at each other for clarification, a guy in the back spoke up, “It’s the boss’s.”
“Where is he? I want to speak to him.” When no one made a move, I added, “Now!”
“He’s in his office, ma’am.”
“Where’s his office?” It was like playing a warped form of the game of Twenty Questions, but I planned on winning.
“The twentieth floor,” the man said, pointing back toward the direction of my office building.
“Perfect.” As I turned on my heel, a short guy with blond hair reached for his cell phone before I stormed back outside.
Yeah, you’d better tell him I’m coming.
So unlike me, I was surprised as I began to like this feeling of righteous anger.
Retracing my steps, I glanced at my car, now blocking half of Mr. Ashton’s car which made me mad all over again. My only thought was that this needed taking care of before he tried to leave. He always seemed like a nice man, smiling and nodding when I met him in the hall and I didn’t want to inconvenience him.
While taking the elevator up to the top floor, I called Maria, my receptionist/secretary/friend to let her know I was running late, but would be in shortly.
When the elevator doors opened, the smiling, perky receptionist seemed to be expecting me and directed me through a glass door. I entered the office of an administrative assistant who sat at a desk just to the left of a set of dark, forbidding double doors.
“Good morning, Miss . . .”
“Stewart, Sydney Stewart.”
“Yes, Ms. Stewart. Mr. Butler will see you now.” She got up from her chair and came around her desk. Looking back to make sure I was following, she knocked once sharply before opening one the double doors.
“Mr. Butler, Ms. Stewart is here.”
I continued farther inside, as she stepped back and closed the door behind me.
The room I found myself in was huge with a wall of windows overlooking the city of Loganville with an extensive view of the harbor. The light from outside made the room seem darker than it really was. I blinked several times trying to adjust my eyes to the contrast. A massive desk sat several feet in front of me. The top smooth and polished to a dull shine, and devoid of the usual stacks of papers one would normally find there. Hmm . . . wouldn’t even have to push the papers off to have passionate sex on top of it. I shook my head to dislodge the picture.
Rising from a large leather chair, a man came toward me with an outstretched hand. He was impressive, not so much in size, but in demeanor. The electricity in the air crackled with each step he took. A dark charcoal suit emphasized the whiteness of his shirt and gray and red striped tie which looked crisper and cleaner. His hair was shiny and black as coal, a lock escaping and hanging across his forehead. The ice blue of his eyes so penetrating it was like being X-rayed. I looked down to check if I still had clothes on.
Find Em Kaye on the following:
About My Life as a Writer
I was born in a small town at the base of the Adirondack Mountains. Some of my childhood vacations were spent with my parents in central Maine. My parents, as well as my sister, were readers and I got my love for books from them, liking the feeling of ‘getting lost’ in a book. I’ve always used essays and novels to express my feelings.
After I was married and had my children (3 girls), I went to community college where I took took creative writing classes and did several independent studies. I met my best friend, Ree, there. I won an award and had something published in the college magazine. That was the first time I actually had something I’d written published.