Guest Blogger: Nya Rawlyns with a Pumping Iron Character Interview

Today have I have two special guests. I'm tickled to introduce Sean Rourke and Mike Douglas. They are debuting in Pumping Iron and have graciously stopped by for an interview. 

Two random people will win an ebook bundle (Curling Iron & Pumping Iron in epub or mobi format). To enter, all you need to do is leave a comment and include your email address on today, September 15th. Two people will win the giveaway at each blog stop Nya makes on her book tour. If you miss commenting before the 15th is over, check out the tour list for the next stop. It can be found at the bottom of this post. Good luck!!

Gentlemen, I'm so glad to have you here. The bar is open, what would you like to drink?

Sean? *looks over at Mike and smirks* Sam Adams. Oktoberfest if you have it, otherwise anything other than “lite.” *makes the finger quotes and ducks as Mike takes a mock swing at him*

Mike? *nods agreement* Seems I finally won Sean over to my more sophisticated tastes. Him and his scotches and brandies and drinks with umbrellas. *shakes head* Make that two of whatever you’ve got on tap. *Sean and Mike tap frosted mugs and toast each other, their eyes revealing a friendly challenge*

Gentleman, I promise not to grill you too hard—mostly. *smirks* Let me know if you would like another drink.

Mike: Just keep these filled and we’ll be just fine.

My first question is for Sean. Tell us a little about yourself. How long have you been working for Bad Boyfriends? How does one become an A-list escort?

I’ve been with the agency for about eight months. I was a regular on Night’s Edge—that’s a network soap. But they wrote me out of the script. After that I couldn’t buy my way into a role so I did what I had to do to survive. *Sean stares at the floor, considering how much to reveal* I got myself into a bit of financial trouble. Bad Boyfriends made me an offer. *he blushes* Seems I had a lot of influential fans following my gay character on the show. They seemed to like the idea of me being arm candy for the evening, even if I was a has-been. You’d think industry professionals wouldn’t have a tough time linking up, but the hours and the crazy life… Well, as it turned out, I knew a lot of them, as a co-worker or friend. There were no awkward entanglements, and it brought extra business to the agency. I call that a win-win.

Mike, if it's not giving too much away, what are your special negotiating skills? How have they helped with running a training center for athletes?

Kane … he runs Bad Boyfriends … and I grew up together in a small town. We were best friends from the age of six. He was the brain, I was the brawn. That made us a good team, but when we graduated high school Kane got a scholarship to Columbia. I got a diploma and a handshake. *he grins* I had nothing else going on so I enrolled in the community college and got an associate degree in corrections and law enforcement. After a few turns handing out speeding tickets and enforcing curfews, I eventually I ended up here in New York City. Joined a fitness club, got into weight lifting. Did a few competitions. *he shrugs* Guess I did okay. Made a few friends along the way. When the fitness center came on the market, Kane was looking to expand, and I had a handful of clients ready to follow me to the new location. The rest, as they say is history. *he looks over at Sean, his expression giving nothing away* As for negotiating? Let’s just say I can be very persuasive when I need to.

Sean, what is one thing about you that people wouldn't know by looking at you?

*Sean fidgets, purposely does not look in Mike’s direction.* Uh, well… I like to lose? *Mike explodes with laughter* Sorry. Private joke.

Mike, what is the most difficult part of your work? Are there any highlights that make the bad days worth the effort?

*Mike gets a smug look on his face, glances sideways at Sean* I like making my clients sweat, pushing them to the next level. You know, going for the gusto. Even when they’re whining like little girls. *Sean snorts. Mike grins* It makes my day when the client realizes the only person he has to best is himself. That’s like an epiphany. *he looks directly at Sean* Sometimes that works both ways.

Sean, how would you describe Mike? Are you friends or simply co-workers? What are his good and not so good qualities?

We were just co-workers at first. The agency and the fitness center are run by the same people. Kane sends all his escorts to Mike for fitness and nutrition training. That’s how we met. Mike always struck me as being like a marine drill sergeant, not that I know any, you understand. But he has that way about him … like he chews nails as snacks. When he’s training you, he’s all business. And he doesn’t take no for an answer. I hated him for a long time because of it. That was before I discovered he’s… Um, nevermind. *Mike preens*

Mike, I hear that you and Sean are going to work on a special joint project. Are you looking forward to working closely with Sean? Do you foresee any hiccups on this project? I heard the attorney was a bit wily.

We’re babysitting a long-time client of Kane’s, at the request of the man’s law firm. Seems the attorney’s got a history of misbehaviors that the firm thinks might hurt the political ambitions of one of the senior partners. Sean and I have been tasked with keeping him out of the way while the firm looks into mitigating the damage. *Mike purses his lips, clearly not thrilled with the upcoming job* Sean’s been delegated the client’s entertainment director for the duration, given their past association. *the frown deepens* It seems simple enough. Keep the guy isolated, away from … um, distractions. I’m mostly there to provide backup. *he glances at Sean, his eyes going smoky dark* Mostly.

*fans self* Uhm… *clears throat* I think I need to have the air-conditioning checked. Gentlemen, thank you so very much for stopping by. I loved our talk and had such a great time getting to know you. I hope you won't be strangers.

*Mike and Sean chug the last of their beers and stand. They shake hands and turn to leave*

Mike mutters, “Wanna make it interesting?”

Sean raises an eyebrow. “Interesting how…?”

Mike smirks and says, “First one back gets to…”

*They exit together, then Sean takes off like a shot*

Well... I don't know about you, but my mind keeps going "there". Did you see all the smoldering looks passed back and forth between those two? Just between you and me, Mike didn't seem to like this joint project with the lawyer. I'm thinking that some sparks are going to flying there... but you didn't hear that from me. ^_^

I hadn't hear of the Bad Boyfriends series until here recently. Nya was kind enough to share with us a little but about the first book in the series, Curling Iron.

Curling Iron (Bad Boyfriends #1)

Blurb:

Kane leads a double life. By day, he pumps iron, running a fitness center, where jocks and Cougar flock for the burn and the ‘tude. By night, it's something else entirely that gets pumped, as Kane swaps sweats for Armani to cater to an exclusive clientele, willing to pay well to indulge their special interests and tastes. His double life isn’t a problem until his conniving ex tightens the financial screws.

Finding and retaining suitable companions for his after-dark clients isn’t easy. David Black’s pole dancing performance at a friend's club hints that he might hit all the bullet points on Kane’s list of requirements, in a way that could mean something other than “just business.”

David is out of work and out of options, so when he’s offered the choice of starvation or performing both on and off the stage, it’s a no-brainer. Kane’s offer of a position with the escort service is as attractive as the man himself, and David agrees to a trial period involving certain conditions. He quickly finds that he’s out of his depth.

Confronted with unanticipated roadblocks, one thing is clear… neither man is taking no for an answer.


Excerpt:

I stifled the urge to sneeze. Mold. I was allergic to mold.

Apparently so was the tall man staring at one of the boss’s art deco posters—Captain America, but modern, not an antique. He sneezed and reached into a coat pocket, pulled out a handkerchief and swiped at his face. From the back he looked familiar. Dark hair, broad shoulders, overcoat from a custom big and tall men’s store. He looked angry or pissed or just not happy to be there—body posture was one of my specialties. I don’t need to see the face to know which way the wind blows.

My heart sank. If he was a detective, that “only the one” was probably me ending up at the precinct for lewd and lascivious behavior. I’d taken Charlie’s advice. I’d courted the pole last night, in a prime and prissy way. Tonight, I’d gone full frontal assault, with more grind than bump, and got a hard-on from my efforts that bulged the pleather pouch to the breaking point.

My sixty-three dollars was now looking like bail money.

Clearing my throat, I plastered polite on my face, and asked, “You wanted to see me?” He wasn’t a customer. No point in pretending otherwise.

He turned.

I swallowed. My tongue thickened. Spit pooled in my mouth, threatening to drizzle down my chin.
He nodded. I nodded. I went to sit in the folding chair in front of the desk.

“Don’t.”

I didn’t.

The soft cashmere turtleneck was a dead giveaway. This was my too smexy for his shoes guy from the audience, the one sitting next to the stage, the one I’d copped a feel with my eyes at the end of the routine… That one. There. Giving me a once, twice, thrice-over.

The pouch bulged.

A grin played at the corners of his mouth. I hoped he had handcuffs. I really hoped he liked doing bad cop.

He held out a hand, said, “I’m Kane.”

We shook. I shook, mostly inside, but it was a close call. I had the presence of mind to ask, “May I see some identification?”

He looked surprised, but fished in an interior pocket and pulled out a small, flat metal holder. He withdrew a business card and handed it over.

I stared, not exactly processing much…

BAD BOYFRIENDS
1-800-bad-boys

While I mouthed Bad Boyfriends, he said, “I have a proposal for you, Mr.—”

“Black. David Black.” It was tempting to extend my hand again for another shake, a formal one. One where I could maybe fondle the backs of those long, elegant fingers, do a few sweeps with my thumb, my tongue, my tongue tied in knots, brain in lockdown.

“You’re not a cop?”

I looked at him, really looked at eyebrows drawn together tight, stern, over eyes that were blue, but not. More like Smoky Mountains hazy blue, flat, intense. He was scary handsome, scary imposing, a total alpha, I eat interns for breakfast, sexual metro hunka way out of my league.

He chuckled. That made it worse.

****

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Nya Rawlyns

Crossing boundaries, taking no prisoners. Write what's in your soul.

It's the bass beat, the heartbeat, the lyrics rude and true.

Nya Rawlyns is the pseudonym of a writer who cut her teeth on sports-themed romantic comedy and historical romances before finding her true calling in the wilderness areas she has visited but calls “home” in that place that counts the most: the heart. She writes M/M erotic romance because her good friends deserve to have their amazing stories told.

She has lived in the country and on a sailboat on the Chesapeake Bay, earned more than 1000 miles in competitive trail and endurance racing, taught Political Science to unwilling freshmen, and found an avocation in materials science.

When she isn’t tending to her garden or the horses, the cats, or two pervert parakeets, she can be found day dreaming and listening to the voices in her head.

Website: http://loveslastrefuge.com/

Website: Romancing Words

The Men of Crow Creek: http://the-men-of-crow-creek.weebly.com/

About Me

Nya on ARe/OmniLit

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Her published works include: 

Curling Iron (A Bad Boyfriends Novella) 

Pumping Iron (A Bad Boyfriends Novel) 

Ash & Oak (A Crow Creek Novel) 

Pulling Leather (A Crow Creek Novel) 

Strapping Ash (A Crow Creek Novel) 

Sorting Will (A Crow Creek Novel) 

Flankman (A Crow Creek Novel) 

The Wrong Side of Right 

Good Boy Bad 

Cajun Gothic (Blood Haven) 

The Strigoi Chronicles: Penance, Fane, Michel, Dreu 

Acid Jazz Singer (Hunger Hurts)