Sunday, September 11, 2016

Meet Brett “Hot Rod” Harris from #Everything-his-Heart-Desires by Patricia Preston @pat_preston

RW:       What’s your story/back story? Why would someone come up with a story about YOU?

HR:        My name’s Brett Harris, nickname Hot Rod. I’m a lot of fun. I’m confident, ambitious, smart, flirty. Totally Type A. I’m a cardiologist and I collect muscle cars. Girls dig that I’m a doctor. Guys envy my cars.

RW:        Can you tell us about your heroine
HR:        Natalie was once my lab partner in high school. The Cutest Girl in Class. She drove me nuts back then. I picked on her a lot and she dumped a bowl of banana pudding on my head once. She considers me an asshole. Of course, I kinda had a secret crush on her but she was the rich girl who was out of reach for me. And, yes, I was an asshole, but I was seventeen back then.

RW:       What problems do you have to face and overcome in your life?
HR:        I have overcome a lot. I grew up on Trinity Road, the rough side of town. Nothing good ever came from Trinity Road. I never knew who my father was, and my mother didn’t want me so my uncle, who owned an auto repair shop, raised me. I was determined to do better, to make something of myself. What I really want now is to become head of the cardiology department. But the hospital CEO thinks I’m an asshole.

RW:      Do you expect your heroine to help or is she the problem?
HR:      She’s supposed to help. That’s the deal we’ve got going. But having Natalie in my life is creating problems. She’s changed a lot and I’m getting really hung up on her. Even worse than in high school.

RW:       Where do you live?
HR:        Lafayette Falls, Tennessee.

RW:       During what time period does your story take place?
HR:       The current time period.

RW:        How are you coping with the conflict in your life?
HR:        I’ve never been a loser so I’m not giving up. I never quit or give up. That’s not in my DNA.

RW:       If money were not an object, where would you most like to live?
HR:      I’m happy in Lafayette Falls, but I could handle a tropical island.

RW:       Are you in control of your author or does she control you?
HR:       I’m definitely in control. That’s just me. I think I’m her favorite out of all the heroes in her stories. She has a special place in her heart for me.

RW:       You’re always ready for—
HR:      I’m always ready for a drive in one of my muscle cars: Rhonda the Roadrunner, Cathy the Camaro, Molly the Mustang, Farrah the Firebird. They are my girls. Hey, they even put a ’65 Mustang on the book cover. That’s what I’m talking about.

RW:      That’s all the questions we have for you. Thank you for speaking to us.
HR:      Thanks for having me and I hope you’ll enjoy my story. It’s sexy and fun (like me), and it even has a thug cat in it named Pharaoh. He belongs to Natalie’s thug grandmother, Anna. I have a rough time in this story.
RW:     Speaking as a grandma with granddaughters old enough to date, I only turn into a thug when guys mistreat my girls. And cats are sensitive to who’s good and who isn’t. Are you sure you’ve reformed? I’d like to introduce you to Tinkerbelle and Acey and see what they think. I’m fairly sure I have photos of them in the sidebar.

Say Hi to Brett in the comments and you’ll be entered in a drawing to win Everything his Heart Desires available in Jan 2017. You can meet Brett in Book 1, One Week in his Arms, available Sept 2016.

Your Bio:

Patricia Preston writes witty mainstream romances. You are her reader if you like fun, passionate, feel-good reads. She is currently writing contemporary romance for Kensington’s Lyrical Shine imprint and she is represented by the Seymour Agency. Her awards include the William Faulkner Award for Short Fiction, the Lone Star Writing Competition for Historical Romance, and Harlequin’s World’s Best Romances Short Story Competition, and her short Southern comedies have made the Amazon best seller list in Comedy. Her current project, Love Heals All series, is set in a fictional Tennessee town, Lafayette Falls, south of Nashville where romance causes havoc, heartache, and humor for a cast of unsuspecting doctors until they realize love heals all.

Must haves in her writing cave include sweet tea, epic music, and plenty of notebooks. Besides writing, she loves music, history, photography, clearance sales, and anything containing chocolate. Her dream-come-true home would be a townhouse in the French Quarter.



The man most likely to drive her crazy…

Growing up in Lafayette Falls, senator’s daughter Natalie Layton hid her sorrows behind a bright smile that charmed everyone in high school—except Brett Harris. Hardworking and highly motivated, Brett dismissed Natalie as a slacker. Instead, she’s become an acclaimed photographer. And when Brett, now a successful cardiologist, needs her family’s help to secure a coveted position, Natalie’s more than happy to prescribe a little payback.

Hailing from the wrong side of the tracks, Brett believed he could never win the school’s popular princess. Now he’s intrigued by the complex and compassionate woman Natalie’s become. Gaining her grandmother’s goodwill is the key to becoming chief cardiologist—and Natalie has no intention of making it easy. But as mutual mistrust gives way to pure chemistry, there’s more at stake than either ever expected—and much more to learn about matters of the heart.


The elevator hydraulics sighed as the door closed. He glanced toward her. She looked directly at him and smiled. Her face went perfectly with her lean body and stylish clothes. She had full lips painted a soft mauve color, a straight nose, and bold blue eyes that sparkled like sapphires as she pinned him with a gaze that would have fired up the pistons in any man.

She was fine, and he was available. So there you go.
“I’ve heard we’re going to have great weather this weekend,” he said, throwing some bait her way. He tapped the elevator handrail. For the first time ever, he wished the elevator would move a little slower.

She batted those baby blues at him. “There’s a storm coming.”

A storm? He had watched the weather report on TV before he left his house. Sunny autumn weekend, high in the seventies, no rain. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh, I’m fairly certain of it,” she insisted with a swift lowering of her lashes. She had a breathy voice with a slight lilt. She didn’t sound local. Her accent was cosmopolitan like a newscaster’s. No regional drawl.

She flashed him a tempestuous smile. “I love storms. Thunder and lightning can be very sexy at night.”

Whoa. Damn. He raked back his dark hair. The elevator passed the fourth floor. With his motor running, he cut his eyes toward her, and she didn’t shy away from direct eye contact. She gave him the once-over as if she were sizing him up. Then she wet her lips. Kinda like she was silently saying, I’m great at oral sex.

I love bad girls! If he had been a Christmas tree, every light on him would have been glowing. Where had she been all his life?


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