Reader’s Edyn

I always felt like I could do something more than just read. Finally, I have found both a creative outlet and a chance to do something meaningful with my reading. This blog was created in appreciation of and tribute to all of the authors who have brought me joy through their books. These reviews are my way of giving back to authors and providing recognition for the hard work that each one completes every day!

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Interview with author Lilly Cain

Interview with author Lilly Cain

What’s up my Lovelies? So we now find ourselves back to our regularly scheduled programming. For those of you who follow, you know that I just completed an Ellora’s Cave Feature Month. That was a fabulous experience and I had a blast! I hope that you did too. In fact, the winners post should be up by tomorrow for all of you who are waiting with baited breath. But … there are a lot of terrific authors out there that I would like to share with you and they are not all with the same publisher. That said, I am kicking off our “back to normal” posting with an author who is new to me, but had an intriguing story I came across. Thanks to the awesome Roxanne, with Bewitching Book Tours, please allow me to introduce to you, author Lilly Cain.


Lilly Cain is a wild woman with a deep throaty laugh, plunging necklines and a great lover of all things sensual - perfume, chocolate, silk! She never has to worry about finding a date or keeping a man in line. She keeps her blond hair long and curly, wears beautiful clothes and loves loud music. Lilly lives her private life in the pages of her books.
Lilly lives in Atlantic Canada, although she spent eight years in Bermuda, enjoying the heat and the pink sands. She returned to her homeland so she could see the changing of the seasons once again. When not writing she paints, swills coffee and vodka (but not together), and fights her writing pals for chocolate.
When not living up to her pen name, Lilly is a single mom who loves reading and writing, dabbling in art and loving and caring for her two daughters. She loves romance and the freedom erotic fantasy provides her imagination. She loves the chilling moments in her novels as much as the steaming hot interludes. Her stories are an escape and a release, and she hopes that they can give you that power, too.

You can find out more about Ms. Cain at the following locations:
(books also available on Amazon etc, and available as an audiobook at

How has your life changed since becoming published?
My life really hasn’t changed—my family come first, my two daughters, and my parents, sisters and brothers, above anything else. After that I guess you could say that I have changed a few priorities, the writing comes before the housecleaning, but then, it always did, LOL

What is your typical day like?
Since I’ve been laid off of my old job, I spend my day mostly freelance editing, with an hour for social marketing, and a minimum 1K wordcount for my work in progress. The kids are out of school now, so somehow things are a bit crazier, going places, having friends over, day camps etc., and since my office is in my living room I find myself occasionally distracted by kids TV. J

Tell us a little about your current release UNDERCOVER ALLIANCE.
UNDERCOVER ALLIANCE is the third book in my erotic sci-fi series, The Confederacy Treaty, with Carina Press. In the series, Earth has been approached by the Confederacy to see if they are a compatible species. This would be in Earth’s favor as we are threatened by outside forces that threaten to strip our planet. On a more personal level, UNDERCOVER ALLIANCE is the story of a wounded and semi-retired Inarrii warrior, Sarina Tariim who take a position as body guard to one of the many paper-pusher humans (John Norton) involved in the Treaty negotiations. Unknown to Sarina, the man she is sent to guard is an undercover agent, and now a target. Her skills are called into play and their relationship blooms as the danger grows.

Any upcoming projects you would like to tell us about?
I have a new erotic paranormal romance – a Succubus novella coming out in late August, about a demon who has been summoned to the Earth plane by a magician for hire on behalf of an evil politician. I also have a contemporary erotic romance mini-series coming out with Carina Press, the first of which will be out in October called Bad Girls Know…No Reservations.

How do you keep in contact with your readers?
I’m on Twitter fairly regularly, and Facebook, and my email address is on my website for anyone that wants to contact me directly. J

What is your favorite thing about this book?
I really like the opportunity to stretch things a bit with the action scenes – the spaceship fights and the hand to hand combat – Sarina kicks butt!

What’s next for The Confederation Treaty Series?
I have one more book left to write for the series. This one, currently called HONOR BOUND, will finalize the treaty, involve a full out space battle, a marriage of convenience and the introduction of a new species.

Any special quirks or habits when writing?
I don’t think it is my quirk but rather my cat’s – she likes to sit on the back of my chair while I write, occasionally I have to remove her when she gets to familiar and tries to groom my hair!

How do you celebrate when you finish a novel?
I know it sounds odd, but I don’t celebrate finishes, beyond a good cup of Passion Tea from Starbucks. I do celebrate new contracts—I take my 2 daughters out to dinner to a new place each time. They are great and have finally reached an age where they will try at least one new thing a meal.

What are you reading now? Any favorites you tend to go back to?
I am reading Asher’s Invention by Coleen Kwan – It’s a Steampunk romance and I love it. J I have lots of old favorites – Several by JD Robb, Mercedes Lackey, Catherine Coulter.

Any advice you’d like to share for aspiring writers?
My favorite advice – Read, Write, Read, Write, Repeat! And get a couple of good critique partners. That can take a while, but it is worth it for both social and professional reasons. Make sure to go to coffee and a movie with them occasionally!

Tell us one thing that readers wouldn’t know about you.
I lived in Bermuda for eight years. I was married to a Bermudian at that time. I liked it there, but I missed my family in Canada.

What is one thing you know now that you wish you had known when you first started writing?
I wish I had realized that before you try to sell a series it is better to have more of it written, so it can come out faster! J You fans will love you for it.

Do you have any other hobbies or interests besides writing?
I like to sketch and paint, working mostly in oils. I also make jewelry and do some cross stitch. I love arts and crafts time!

What is your favorite drink?
Alcoholic – Vodka (Grey Goose) and Cranberry
Non-alcoholic – Coke Classic

What is your favorite holiday?

Favorite place you have ever visited?
Old Quebec – loved the artist’s row.

Favorite childhood memory?
Laying on the grass with my best friend after our families had a BBQ/corn boil and looking at the stars.

Boxers or briefs?

M&M’s or Skittles?
M&M’s – Peanut!

E-reader or Paperback?
I’m 50/50 on this as I love both for different reasons!

Long hair or short hair on a guy?
Short, but long enough on the top to tangle my fingers in!

Caffeine or Decaf?

Favorite midnight snack?
Chocolate cupcake. J

Almond Joy or Mounds?
Both yucky. KitKat please!

Flowers or chocolate?
Flowers – I buy my own chocolate, LOL

Do you have any phobias or fears?
Spiders!!! Another reason I left the warm climate of Bermuda…

Urban Fantasy or Paranormal Romance?
Paranormal romance. I love happy endings.

Favorite meal?
Teppanyaki Filet Mignon – yummy!


Sarina is scarred. Her L'inar, the curving nerve lines that enable Inarrii to experience their full sexuality, were severed in battle and she can no longer reach completion. Until she accepts a job as bodyguard to the human ambassador John Bennings, and is astonished to discover that they share a mental bond—a mirrored pathway of thoughts that will allow Sarina to climax.
When John's the target of an attack and they are forced into hiding, he's not sorry to be in close quarters with the compelling Sarina. They explore their erotic connection, and John is happy to demonstrate that humans have more sexual skills than Sarina thought.
To prove that she is whole and rejoin her Inarrii clan, Sarina needs John to bring her to climax in public in accordance with tradition. With a roomful of Inarrii and humans watching, will John be willing to perform as Sarina needs—and will their public display make John vulnerable to another attack?

First impressions could say a lot about a person, but observation of a subject when he was at ease, following a routine he was familiar with, told far more. Sarina studied her charge carefully as he worked. The meeting had been in session for an hour since the last intermission. She’d been introduced briefly to John Bennings by the captain of the Osprey during their meal break. Benning’s handshake had been firm, and his height and muscular frame belied a life of facts and figures. With his powerful, lean muscles, his body spoke more of the strength brought on by hard exercise, perhaps even some human form of hand-to-hand combat. It also spoke softly, seductively of sex.
His hands were long-fingered. He wore a well-tailored white shirt and dark pants, but he’d turned back the cuffs on his sleeves almost to his elbows. Fine, light brown hairs along his exposed forearms caught her attention and held it as she considered where else he might have such silken decoration. He wore the hair on his head short, not like the long locks of a male Inarrii warrior. But there was something about the way he carried himself. He reminded her of someone.
“And that’s enough for today. Thank you everyone. We’ll meet again tomorrow.” The human chairman stood up from the meeting table. “I’ll remind you that we have two weeks until the next meeting of the Treaty negotiation boards. We’ve been making good progress, but there is still a long way to go to finalize the agreements on Earth before the signing of the first Intergalactic Treaty.” He smiled, but clearly the rest of the team had been dismissed.
The lawyers and legal aids began shuffling about, most packing up their datapads and styluses or tapping shut their coms. Not Bennings. He sat still as the rest moved on as a pack, the humans and their unobtrusive Inarrii guards. She watched him watching them until her gaze caught his attention.
He studied her and she returned the look. His eyes were a soft gray, not blue or brown like the few humans she’d met so far, and no where near her own verdant green, the most common Inarrii color. His eyes were beautiful. And it didn’t matter.
She broke the connection and looked around the room, scanning the exits and the few people still within the area.
“Sergeant Tariim.” He used the human equivalent of her Inarrii rank of Soryen and he spoke softly, but she caught the deep timbre of his voice beyond its hushed tones. “I’m beat. I’m going back to my quarters. I won’t be going anywhere, so you can stand down. Get settled in. I’m sure they’ve quartered you somewhere near my rooms.”
He’d gotten close to her without making a sound. She’d been aware of his movements, but if she hadn’t been paying attention, would she have even noticed that he’d stepped closer, let alone come within striking distance of her? Interesting. Even the spongy shoes most humans wore on board ship usually made some noise. Their height was close; she looked directly into his eyes without shifting her stance. A quick flicker of awareness passed over her. For an instant she wondered if he could have some form of m’ittar; it was common knowledge that some humans had proven their ability to share thoughts and emotions, at least to some degree. This is what made them such attractive possible members for the Confederacy.
“Actually, I have had our rooms reassigned. Our quarters are now on the third deck, sector two.” She stated the fact and ignored the flash of attraction that raced through her as she inhaled his muted scent. He smelled of fresh rain along the beach line of her home world. Like an ocean breeze.
“Reassigned.” His eyes took on a steely note. “You’ve had our rooms reassigned together? As in, sharing the rooms?”
“We have adjoining quarters. I cannot guard you from the opposite end of the ship. I will not be…settling in. My shift doesn’t end until the Treaty is compete and I am transferred.”
For a moment she thought he might argue with her. A tiny line of tension formed along the corner of his full mouth. She took a quick breath as the old excitement flickered through her muscles. A fight would be good. A little excitement on a surely boring tour of duty. Perhaps if it became physical they would send her back to the Horneu. And what would you do there? a silent voice whispered within her.
But he broke off eye contact, lowered his gaze to flicker briefly over her body before he nodded. “Fine. I’m sure you know what you’re doing.”
He’d deferred to her. A strange feeling of disappointment settled into her stomach. She shook her head and led the way out of the conference room and through the corridor to the ship’s central lift. What did she think a data-shuffling tech would do, challenge her for dominance? Maybe she was already beginning to lose her mind. She needed his compliance if she expected to protect him. In a dangerous situation, she had to know he would follow her lead. She considered the slight hesitation, the line of tension beside his mouth before he’d accepted the room change. Perhaps he would follow her. Perhaps not. As long as it didn’t get to that point it didn’t matter, and after the mind-numbingly boring meeting she’d just observed, surely no one would be interested in attacking this level of tedious bureaucracy.

“You’ve got company,” Davis’s tense voice called through the comm unit.
“No shit.” Starforce Special Agent John Norton glanced down at the hull of the ship. The metal still glowed red where it had been struck by laser fire only a few feet away from his position.
John tracked the small fighter skimming close to the long hull of the Starship Osprey. Its dark metal body nearly matched the blackness of space. It was coming back for another shot. Twisting, John fired his hand laser. It sheared through the vacuum of space and pierced the edge of the attacker’s hull. Dodging return fire, he leaped for the communication array pod at the far end of the ship and hoped like hell his aim was good and his magnetic boots would clamp, or he’d be hurtling into space like garbage. Since no one was going to admit he was even on board, there was no chance of rescue. His heart pounded, his breath rasping loudly inside the confines of his polarized helmet. He turned and fired again. This time the laser hit a crucial spot, and the small craft peeled off from its attack course.
John released the laser, allowing it to dangle from his wrist strap, and gripped the ship as his boots hit and clamped tight to the edge of the array. Leaning into the small amount of shelter provided by the communication pod, he scanned above him. Only one sleek, little fighter had gone for him, its design confirming what he’d already been told. There was more to the terrorist group Terran Purity than a ragtag group of human racists. The fighter was too sophisticated to be of Earth origin. The Osprey hadn’t picked it up, or Davis would have caught that on the online chatter. That meant the attacker had some serious shielding. The terrorist shouldn’t have detected John either—a single moving figure on the exterior of the massive human Starship Osprey, his suit designed to deflect not only the coldness of space but any heat or ultrasonic detection. At least, that was the plan.
Quickly he flipped open the closest access panel and toggled the manual relay on the communications pod. Two more minutes and he would have the fourth and final bug in place. Not that he could rely on the listening devices any longer. No one in Starforce should have known he was here, let alone the Purity assholes. Someone could be aware of the surveillance equipment he was planting as well. Any information he got from them would be suspect at best. He pulled the bug from his forearm pocket and pressed it against the console. He felt it dissolve into the circuitry through the pressure-sensitive fingerpads on his suit and suppressed a shudder. It never failed to revolt him the way the damn bugs could work their way through anything electronic, and he vowed again to refuse the microcircuit brain implants the brass had been pushing on all upper-level agents.
Motion flickered in the corner of his eye. Instantly he snapped off the magnetic clamps in his boots and shoved away from the array. Laser fire bit into the hull inches away from where he’d been locked on. He fired the narrow jets on his back, the silent explosion of compressed gas propelling him away from the array and back toward his only exit without a hint of heat to give away his location. The fucking fighter was back, its maneuverability amazing as it followed him across the underbelly of the ship.
John grabbed at his dangling laser and flicked a shot across what he guessed was the view panel of the pilot. He snapped the magnets back on his boots, slamming into the hull. The fighter’s momentum pulled the ship past his location, and he shot the laser at full capacity, directly at what had to be a rear power nodule.
In a flash of light, the back of the fighter ship ripped forward through its front.
John gasped. An explosion was not what he’d expected. The resulting shockwave flashed toward him, driving him back against the hull in a way that made him twist and shout out in sudden pain. Then the blackness of space claimed the final charred remains of the attacker.
Panting for breath, John weighed his options. His knee radiated agony. There wouldn’t be much time before someone came to investigate the explosion. The Osprey captain would already be aware of the attack, although hopefully not what had caused the terrorist ship to detonate. They’d be looking for answers. John straightened and forced himself to bring up his helmet comp unit and signal for a map. It flared to life across his visor, the light color of the map illuminating his screen with a sudden flare of pain behind his eyes. The explosion had left his head throbbing and his knee feeling as though he’d been kicked, hard.
“I heard that, Norton. Good to know you’re alive. Now get your ass in here.”
“I’m working on it, Davis. Keep your pants on.” John’s map pointed the way and a quick pulse from his jet pushed him toward the closest service hatch.
“Trust me, I wouldn’t go anywhere near you without my pants.” The deep voice of his mission tech radiated good humor. The man had a sick sense of what was funny in the middle of the most dangerous of missions. If it wasn’t for John’s strict rule—no partners—he might have taken the man out for a few drinks and laughs. But keeping things professional and separate had saved his ass more than once. Connections only made things more complicated.
“I keep telling you, Davis—you’re not my type.”
“Far as I can see, you haven’t got a type. And you have three minutes before the security team reaches that hatch. Move your ass.”
John didn’t reply. His knee throbbed now with every heartbeat. In space he didn’t have to put his weight on it. Inside the ship it was going to be a bitch to put any speed on and avoid arrest by the very people he was actually protecting. He had to get back to his cover assignment. He reached the hatch and yanked it open. Daviswould have already triggered the lock release from wherever the hell he was, via remote link. Now would come the hard part.
* * *
 Soryen Sarina Tariim slammed a fist into the oral port of her charging attacker. The lean alien went down in a graceless collapse, only to be replaced by another, and another. They swarmed her, their stinking, slimy skin repulsive as they tried to push her to the soggy ground and rip her limb from limb. She grabbed one creature’s arm and slammed him into the next, kicking a third in its midsection. Still more of them darted toward her. All they had to do was pull her breather from her face and she’d be dead in minutes. Around her other Inarrii fought hand to hand against the Archat swarm. Lasers were useless and actually dangerous to fire in the methane-rich atmosphere of this world.
She’d lost her first set of dash’tet knives and now reached for her second, grabbing for the hilts strapped to her calves. The movement cost her; two more Archat were on her in seconds but she rolled with their attack, using their momentum to skewer them through on her long dash’tet.
A long hooting howl sounded as she pulled her knives from their bodies. The unprovoked attack on the Inarrii scout party was now a retreat. Inarrii all around her raised their voices in a ragged cheer, and she laughed aloud.
Too soon, the feeling of exhilaration melted away. Her grin faded. This was useless. There was no real victory. She didn’t know the Inarrii warrior who had battled only a few feet away. He wasn’t her teammate and this wasn’t real. With a decisive slash of her dash’tet, still dripping with alien gore, she shut down the battle simulator and stepped out of the holo unit. Her battle gear faded as she exited, but the bruising she’d received inside the simulation remained painfully real.
Fighting these images, these pale reflections of old battles, provided only a few moments of relief from the truth. She’d been there, on the very mission this simulation had been based on. She’d fought on dozens of worlds, performed hundreds of dangerous missions. But it would never be the same. She rubbed the upper muscle of her left arm, felt the damage no Inarrii medtech would ever be able to remove.
Beneath the fading scar tissue was the real injury. Her L’inar were severed, the damage far deeper than surface lacerations. Despite a dozen reconstructive surgeries, her synapses no longer meshed. She would never again have complete release, experience the utter sexual abandon the sensitive L’inar nerve lines could inspire. And without that completion, her mind was at risk. At least, according to Inarrii belief.
Her therapist said she would recover. Her commander agreed. Her clan was sympathetic, but already garnering the political credit and honor points from a permanent disability of one of their own in the line of duty. Her current assignment indicated her clan was more in touch with reality than either of her advisors.
Sarina exited the simulation lounge of the Inarrii flagship Horneu. This would be her last evening on board before she headed to her new assignment and complete boredom. There would be no more laser fights in her future, no space battles. With a groan, she walked to the next section of the training level. The familiar and usually comforting scent of sweat in the strength focus room did nothing to cool the anger that burned inside her over her predicament. She could fly a ship, strategize and fight with the best, excel at everything a warrior could hope for, but she would never get the chance to prove it again. Just because her damn L’inar and her lack of a sex life were a supposed threat to her sanity.
“Fuck.” She tested the human curse and found it vaguely satisfying, and in her situation the curse was ironically apt. She moved over to the resistance boards and attached the wrist and ankle straps. Throwing her weight and her anger into the workout, she pushed herself to the limit.
The boards hummed with power as she strained to touch them, to press them past her usual level. Sweat beaded on her back, slowly slipping down the length of her spine. Her L’inar reacted to the slight touch of the drops of liquid. Sensation fizzled along the nerves, flared around the curve of her ribs, bounced erratically around her abdomen to flicker over the lower curve of her breasts, only to dissipate. She jerked in her restraints, the sensation an erotic tease, a reminder of the fact that she hadn’t had sex in a month and wasn’t likely to experience it any time soon.
She ripped the bands from her wrists and glanced around the room, thankful the area remained nearly empty. Perhaps they were right. Even if she managed to reach orgasm again, these unpredictably odd flashes ofL’inar activity just might drive her insane. At least no one had witnessed her strange reaction. One set of warriors trained in hand-to-hand combat in the far corner of the training level. Their strikes and parries nearly blurred in rapid progression. They were in sync with each other, even their breaths matching rhythms. Sarina pulled off her ankle straps, never taking her eyes off the sparring couple. They had to be a couple. If they weren’t, they soon would be. The flashing blows were slowing, becoming more of a dance than an attack. Before the night was out, they would be wrapped in a dance of a different kind. Skin on sweaty skin.
Sarina sagged against the resistance boards. Their power had disengaged the moment she pulled off the tethers. Inert now, they bowed slightly with her weight. Perhaps leaving the Horneu wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Despite the incredible boredom of guarding a human nobody, at least on the human ships there was no open sex. No erotic displays, no direct offers that held the intimacy of m’ittar mind contact and a promise that couldn’t be fulfilled—complete L’inar arousal and release.
She turned away from the couple and walked quietly from the room to the sonic cleansers. The hum of the cleansing units passed their vibration up through the soles of her feet and into her body. An ache low in her belly reminded her again, as if she needed any more reminders, that it had been weeks since she’d shared the tension-relieving experience of sex. Without sex, Inarrii could not de-stress.
That was the reason she was being assigned to bodyguard such a low-status human. What would they have done with her if she hadn’t already learned standard English? No de-stressing meant an eventual breakdown, but how much stress could she experience guarding John Bennings, a lawyer who spent his days deep in the tangled webs of information completing the final layer of the human/Confederation Treaty?
It was a horrifyingly dull thought.
Still, a job was a job. And as long as she could, she’d retain the rank of warrior, a Soryen, giving every assignment everything she had. Anyone who said she couldn’t could…fuck themselves. She snickered at her own sick sense of humor and then leaned into the sonic cleanser.

So what do you think? Sounds pretty interesting if you ask me! Feel free to leave your thoughts and comments about this interview, or book. As a new-to-me author, I would love to hear what anyone has to say about Ms. Cain who has read her before. So let’s chat!

And until next time …

No comments:

Post a Comment

I lurve comments! Say whatever is on your mind; just keep it respectful. I am always game for a conversation. :)