About Roni Loren
Roni [Site | Fb | Tw | Goodreads] wrote her first romance novel at age fifteen when she discovered writing about boys was way easier than actually talking to them. Since then, her flirting skills haven’t improved, but she likes to think her storytelling ability has. Though she’ll forever be a New Orleans girl at heart, she now lives in Dallas with her husband and son.
If she’s not working on her latest sexy story, you can find her reading, watching reality television, or indulging in her unhealthy addiction to rockstars, er, rock concerts. Yeah, that's it. She is the National Bestselling Author of The Loving on the Edge series from Berkley Heat.
About Call on Me
Pike isn’t about to let Ms. Prim and Proper shut him down so easily, especially when he stumbles upon Oakley’s sexy night job. She’s only playing a role on those late night calls with strangers, but when he gets her on the line, all bets are off. He won’t stop until that sultry voice is calling his name for real.
But as they move from anonymous fantasies in the dark to the flesh-on-hot-flesh reality of the bedroom, the risk of falling in love becomes all too high. And the safe, quiet world that Oakley’s worked so hard to create is about to be exposed to the one person who could ruin it all.
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Top 5 On the Spot Interview with Roni
As a writer, what are your top 5 must-haves when you sit down to write?
I wish I could say inspiration because it would be lovely to have that every day when I sit down. But the muse is a finicky sucker, and I have to write even when he decides to sleep in. But these are some of the things that are my must haves for my writing day.
- Caffeine – In the morning, this means coffee. The rest of the day iced tea. I’m not breaking any writer stereotypes with that one I’m afraid. Although, I am a new coffee drinker. I hated it every time I tried it until a few months ago. Then all of a sudden it was like—oh, NOW I get it. Does this mean I’m getting old? ;-)
- Music – I have trouble writing in silence, so Spotify is always on. If I’m in the writing zone, I listen to my faves playlist, which has everything from rock to country to pop and 80s. But other times, I’m easily distracted by music with words or music that’s too “loud.” Those days I pick from the bazillions of playlists that Spotify has. I really like Indie Chill Covers and Instrumental Covers lists because they’re songs I know but they are mellower, or in the case of the instrumentals, have no words to sing along to.
- Baby Name book – I keep one on my desk because I’m always reaching for it to name side characters. I know there are websites for this, but I find a paperback way easier in this case.
- Good notebooks and pens – I’m not one of those writers who writes in longhand. I’m not patient enough for that. But I do keep a notebook right next to me to make notes or jot down ideas. The Greenroom notebooks are my fave because they’re recycled and have that ivory colored paper which is easier on my eyes. You can get them at Target. And I am super picky about the pens I use. I like writing in pretty colors and am partial to Pentel EnerGel and Papermate InkJoy.
- Paperbacks of all of my books – My memory is not so hot, and I’ve made the egregious mistake of not creating a series bible early on. So I often have to flip through my previous books to refresh my memory on something so that I don’t mess it up in whatever book I’m writing. Like, oh crap, that girl has a brother not a sister. Or wait, what color are this guy’s eyes?
A Taste of Call on Me: Excerpt
“Don’t tease me, mama. Tell me. In vivid detail preferably.”
She pressed her lips together, humor in her eyes, and looked toward the road. “You sound like one of my callers.”
“You’re dodging my question.”
She nodded. “A fair assessment.”
“How come?”
She glanced down, a self-deprecating smile tugging at her lips. “It’s silly, right? I talk sex for a living but when it comes to talking to you about it, I lock up like some awkward virgin. I had to fight it the first few times we talked on the phone. Now, in person, it’s coming back.”
He appreciated the honesty. “I get it. Everything’s easier when it’s a role. You talk sex as Sasha. But it’s just you here tonight. Same for me. It’s easier for me when I’m the drummer from Darkfall. But the only person you’ve got in this car with you is James Pike Ryland. So don’t feel awkward. We’re on even ground.”
She looked over at him. “Your name is James?”
“It was my father’s name. But my dad walked out when I was five and I started going by Pike since my mom said she couldn’t stand to hear his name in the house. I legally changed it when I joined the band to separate myself from my history, but for some reason, James still feels like my real name. It’s what my brother called me.”
She considered him. “So if I was in here with Pike Ryland, rockstar, how would it be different?”
He laughed. “We are not going to discuss that. You would hate him.”
She turned her body toward him, devious smile beaming. “Oh, no. We have to go there now. I think I got a glimpse of him the first time we met.”
He rubbed the back of his head. How had he gotten trapped in this corner? “Fuck, all right. I do what’s easy. I tell women what they want to hear. Most girls just want to know how hot they are, how great they look in whatever they’re wearing. It’s much more about them and the conquest of landing the band member than it is about me. I figured that out early on. Then it usually ends up with talk of who I know, where I’ve been, all that shit that makes me sound like a big deal.”
Oakley bit her lip like she was trying hard not to laugh.
“What?” he asked, grinning. “That shit totally works.”
“Oh, I have no doubt. I’m sure ten minutes of that and there’s no more talking because the girl’s head is bobbing in your lap. Frankly, I don’t know why you even bother talking. I mean, looking at you is enough. You probably could just unbutton your fly and point.”
His mouth kicked up at the corner. “Yeah? Would that have worked on you?”
“That would’ve gotten you a knee to the balls. And a thank you for showing me where to aim.”
He laughed.
She turned, peering out at the passing mileage signs. “Looking at you is no hardship. You know that. But talking to James Pike Ryland is what got me here. The other guy would’ve never had a chance.”
The gently spoken admission thumped him right in the chest. He focused on the road, trying not to show on his face how the words had affected him. “Thank you, Oakley.”
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