Page 9 of Thick

“Book one and book two of the American Muscle MC Romance Series. I really liked the guy in the first book, Levin ‘Crip’ McMaster.”

It was my most recent series, and arguably my best work to date. “That’s a pretty good series. I liked Crip, too.”

Her brows knitted together. “Pretty good? That’s an understatement. I haven’t slept yet. I finished book one, and went right to book two. Reluctantly, I put it down an hour ago, took a shower, and drove here.”

Any time someone said they couldn’t put down one of my books, I was flattered. To think I could tell a 300-page lie, and people became so enthralled in reading it that they couldn’t stop was a testament to my God-given abilities.

I looked her over. “Well, you look great for not having slept all night.”

She seemed embarrassed, but managed a smile. “Thank you.”

“You have questions?” I asked. “About the books?”

“I do.” Her gaze fell to the floor. After a moment, she looked up. “Are the stories based on anything?”

I often based character’s personalities on people I’d met, or someone I knew. Their experiences in the books, however, were nothing more than my mind’s imagination at work. It seemed I had an endless supply of tales to tell, none of which were like the last.

I shook my head. “Not really.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Not really, or not at all?”

I stepped closer to the door and then leaned against it. “The stories are made up. Every one of them. Some of my characters are modeled after people I’ve met. I’ll use their mannerisms and features, but the similarities stop there.”

“What about Crip’s crazy sex scenes?”

“What about them?”

“Are they…you know. Are they real?”

It was a question I was often asked in email messages I received from readers. It seemed women authors were given a dismissive wave when it came to sex scenes. Readers assumed they were simply the author’s fantasies. A male author, however, was believed to be writing a description of his previous night’s sexual antics. Nothing could be further from the truth.

I played dumb. “Real? What do you mean?”

“Are the sex scenes fantasy, or reality?”

“I suppose they could be either.”

“The sex on a motorcycle,” she said. “Was that based on personal experience?”

I chuckled. “No. That was sheer fantasy.”

She turned her head to the side, let out a long breath, and then looked at me. Her face was beet red. “That was the hottest sex scene I’ve ever read.”

“A lot of people said that in their reviews. It was a fun scene to write, that’s for sure.”

She glanced in each direction, and then looked at me. “One more quick question. Is the series finished?”

“They’re all stand-alone novels. There was one more I wanted to write. You know, to kind of wrap everything up.” I shrugged at the thought of finishing the book in five years when I got out of prison. “Going to be tough in here, though.”

“That sucks. Well, enjoy your breakfast. I can’t wait to read about Bones. He was so funny in the first book.”

The character was modeled after my MCs very own Pee Bee, the club’s Sergeant-at-Arms. A monster of a man who stood 6’-8” and normally had the temperament of a teddy bear, he was a very comical man even on his worst days.

“He was a great character,” I agreed.

“Is he based on anyone? Who’s that tall, anyway?”

“Pee Bee.”