NOBLE AUTHOR'S BLOG TOUR-Interview with J.S. Wayne
Okay, corny, but this warrants some kind of skin tingling, pulse thumping, explosive climax! Oh, wait, that's how the winner of the Grand Prize is going to feel! 
To end the tour for us, I'd like to welcome the wonderful J.S Wayne. He's come here before and he probably will come again (okay, now I'm being bad! lol!).
So tell us a bit about yourself J.S.
J.S: I think of myself as a jack of all trades when it comes to writing. Erotic romance, supernatural horror, and urban fantasy are my favorite genres, and I like to mix them up and see what happens.
What's your favourite thing to watch on TV while being intimate?
I like to put on A Walk To Remember and cuddle. Nothing big or fancy. Just sodas or beers and finger foods, my arm around a beautiful woman, and life is GOOD!
Imagine a very ordinary situation and find a way to make it romantic.
Eye contact is always the first step. It doesn't matter if you're in the line at the bank, at work, or anywhere else. Meaningful, intense (but not stalkerish) eye contact is the key to making ANY situation or place a romantic one. From there, a warm lover's smile and gentle touches are really all you need.
If you found a sexy man/woman tied up on your bed, what would you do with him/her?
First I'd make sure I walked into the right room. (laughs) Then, assuming she was willing, she wouldn't be going anywhere for quite a while! And no, we wouldn't be discussing the national debt.
What do you consider the most erotic fruit?
The most erotic fruit to me is a plum. Small, sweet, and juicy, it's a perfect accompaniment to any erotic encounter involving food, because it's easy to share with your lover in…ahem…exotic ways!
Name a historical figure you admire. Explain why.
Thomas Alva Edison. A friend was needling him about the fact that it took him two thousand tries to create a working carbon-filament lightbulb. When the friend asked him how it felt to fail that many times, he said, "I didn't fail. I learned two thousand ways NOT to make a lightbulb."
What mythical creature would you want to be?
The phoenix. I've always loved the imagery of something that burns itself to ashes every so often to recreate itself into something new and beautiful.
Beer, wine, or spirits?
Uh, do I take a penalty if I say all the above?
Seriously, my preferred beverage is Scotch.
If you had to choose between and angel and a vampire, which would you choose? Why?
Tough call, but I'm partial to vampires. Especially vampires in the "Blade" mold. They're incredibly tough, they operate at night, and they have a kind of dark glamour to them that angels just can't seem to touch. Most people think of angels as cute little cherubs wearing diapers. No one thinks that way about vampires, unless they happen to be hating on Twilight at the time.
Most people would say uniforms are sexy. Do you agree? Which is the sexiest in your opinion?
I disagree. Either evening attire or au natural is the way to go. But for the coolest-looking uniform, hard to beat United States Marine dress blues.
What's your favourite action movie? If you don't have a favourite, name one you didn't hate.
The Crow. Absolutely, without a doubt, an action movie that truly deserves the title "Classic." I nearly choked on my beer when I heard they were remaking it. Some things just shouldn't be messed with.
Name your favourite cookie. No, seriously, tell us what it is and give it a new name.
To the rest of the world, it's white chocolate macadamia nut. To me, it's the sweet chewy crunchy goodness.
Who's your favourite cartoon character? What do you like about them?
Batman. I've always liked the dark, brooding antihero, and Batman kicks more ass than a roomful of donkeys.
What is the name of the last book you wanted to use as kindling?
Stephen King's Wizards and Glass: The Dark Tower IV. After that, I pretty well gave up on him.
What songs would you choose for the soundtrack of your life?
The Unicron Medley, from the 1986 Transformers movie; Angel of the Morning, by Juice Newton; Dead Souls, by Nine Inch Nails; When Doves Cry, by Prince; Hokus Pokus, by Insane Clown Posse; Something To Be Proud Of, by Montgomery Gentry; My Lover's Box, by Garbage; Of Wolf and Man, by Metallica; and The Mayor, by Rasputina.
Of all your characters, which one do you think would be best in a crisis?
Markus Latimore, from Shadowphoenix: Requiem. No question. Bruce Wayne + Blade + Harry Dresden = You're going to want to be somewhere else. On another continent. In a plate steel box. Down a deep hole. And if you can manage all of the above, all the better. When he throws down, body bags are kind of beside the point. Better off with a good mop.
Blurb:
Take one more, ferry her along. Soulbearer Moradiel recounts his duties while collecting his latest assignment, nurse Ariel. Tragic accident–seems simple. But in the RN's final moments asleep at the wheel of her speeding car, stirrings grip Moradiel's angelic heart. Stirrings so forbidden that to simply give voice to them is to risk expulsion from his Heavenly abode.
Out of time and faced with the most difficult decision in his eternal existence, Moradiel finds himself torn between saving the only woman he's ever loved or throwing the balance between Heaven and Hell into chaos. Duty or desire? Moradiel must choose . . .
Excerpt:
Moradiel stared down at the bridge, his dark wings furled around him. Any moment now, a white Ford Taurus would fly around the curve at an unsafe rate of speed, the driver exhausted from a long night at work. The car would hit the concrete pylons flanking the north side of the bridge. Its gas tank would rupture, and by the time the fire crews arrived on scene, the vehicle would be little more than slag and the driver ashes.
The driver's soul, on the other hand, would be safely on its way to Heaven. He knew this, for it was his task to collect it.
This, in itself, was nothing new. He was a seraph, and served the Most High by assisting Azrael, the Angel of Death. Moradiel, a Soulbearer, ferried the worthy, newly dead to Heaven and their eternal reward. He had performed this task millions of times; from the newborn lost before drawing its first breath, to the most ancient souls ever to walk the planet. None had ever aroused the slightest feeling of pity or regret.
After all, with them going on to a far better place than this imperfect world would ever be, why should they garner his concern? Surrounded by the eternal glory of the One who'd created the universe simply by whispering Its name into the void. Surely, nothing there to mourn.
But all that had changed three days earlier, when he'd received this latest task and arrived to perform the necessary preambles.
Alighting outside the cozy, well-maintained house in the first light of day, he set the owls in the trees around the yard to hooting. Later, in the brazen light of mid-afternoon, when his latest assignment had headed out the door for work, he'd arranged for a crow, a bird not common to the area, to perch on the low fence and caw. Any of the ancients would have been familiar with these harbingers of death, seizing their amulets and mumbling prayers to ward off the impending doom. Most modern humans paid such signs little heed, but Moradiel had been at this task far too long not to pay obeisance to the traditions.
Ariel had drawn herself up short, a slight brunette with the face of a gamine—pretty, playful. Her mouth puckered into a quizzical expression at the crow. She shrugged off the uneasiness and checked herself yet again to make sure her ice-blue nurse's uniform looked presentable. The pageboy-cut hair cupped her ears in a fetching manner as she hurried to her car and off down the road for yet another long night.
Moradiel had followed her that night, and watched her in secret as she'd made her rounds. Ariel cared for all her charges the same, with humor, spirit, and compassion. It occurred to him, the other nurses would have done well to follow the example of this unwitting disciple of Raphael, the Divine Physician. Instead, they seemed more interested in coffee, cigarettes, and their ceaseless complaining about the other staff than those they were supposed to help heal.
And as she went on her rounds night after night, he felt a most unaccustomed stirring within his angelic self. For countless eons, he'd never felt anything like it; he had no frame of reference for it, and this stirring puzzled him. So, he resolved, he would learn more of this.
For the next two days, he followed her relentlessly, even beside her in the car on her way home from work, with her oblivious to his presence. She played country songs at top volume in a bid to stay awake on the forty-mile commute home. The current selection—Juice Newton's Angel of the Morning—had Ariel singing along in a voice that seemed to rival any music Moradiel had heard from the Ophanim or the Cherubim in the Otherplace. No Seraphim he knew could create such lush and vibrant melodies. Entranced, he watched as her warm blue eyes opened and closed in time with the song, her full lips caressed every syllable that passed into the cool interior of the car, and her breasts heaved as she drew breath to give every note its full due.
He followed behind her as she entered the house and went straight to the kitchen, where she put on chamomile-mint tea to steep in her dented copper teapot before turning on the radio. She'd danced down the hall to her bedroom, where she quickly removed her uniform, leaving herself clad in only a sea-foam green, sheer lace bra and panties. Moradiel watched, noting the light dusting of cinnamon freckles across her high cheekbones, her shoulders, her arms, and on the ample swell of her bosom, all but unveiled to his gaze through the translucent fabric.
With brisk efficiency, Ariel stripped off the last remaining garments and raised her arms in apparent exultation at the feeling of freedom. Her mound was perfectly innocent of any stubble, her legs soft as the day she was born. A tiny mole on the outside of her left breast was the only imperfection Moradiel could see, and he would have found it charmingly seductive if such a notion existed in his world.
To buy Angels Would Fall, click on the book cover.
I hope you all enjoyed the tour. Be sure to comment, there's still time to make a few more entries before when drop all the names in a virtual hat. The winner will be announced sometime tomorrow, both here and on the main Tour Blog. Good Luck!
For the next stop in the tour, click here:
